As Sam, Nancy, and Dean pulled into the gas station, the sun glaring down on the worn pavement. Dean hopped out of the car, eager to fill the tank and get back on the road.
"Alright, I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight," Dean announced, his voice tinged with excitement for the journey ahead. But Sam seemed preoccupied, his attention focused on his PalmPilot, checking e-mails. "Sam wears women's underwear."
"I've been listening, I'm just busy," Sam replied, his eyes fixed on the screen.
"Busy doing what?" Dean raised an eyebrow.
"Reading e-mails," Sam answered casually, scrolling through the messages.
"E-mails from who?" Nancy wondered intrigued as she leaned over to peek at the screen.
"From my friends at Stanford," Sam replied, his tone indicating there was more to the story.
"You still keep in touch with your college buddies?" Dean replied surprised
"Why not?" Sam shrugged nonchalantly.
"What do you tell 'em? About where you've been, what you've been doing?" Dean prodded further.
"I tell 'em I'm on a road trip with my big brother. I tell 'em I needed some time off after Jess," Sam explained, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
"So, you lie to 'em," Dean concluded bluntly.
"No. I just don't tell 'em everything." Sam shook his head in dismissal.
"Yeah, that's called lying." Dean scoffed "I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin' the truth is far worse."
"So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?" Sam's frustration seeped through his words, directed at Dean, who simply shrugged in response.
"In a job like this, you can't get close to people, period," Dean retorted, his tone matter-of-fact.
"You're kind of anti-social, you know that?" Sam remarked as he delved back into his e-mails.
"Yeah whatever," Dean dismissed his brother as suddenly Sam's expression shifted, a mix of concern and disbelief clouding his features.
"God...," Sam muttered under his breath, catching Nancy's attention.
"What's wrong?" Nancy's voice held a hint of worry as she turned to face Sam.
"In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of my friends," Sam began, his voice tense. "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."
"Is she hot?" Dean quipped, earning an eye-roll from Nancy and a pointed ignore from Sam.
"I went to school with her and her brother, Zack. He's no killer," Sam defended, his loyalty to his friend evident in his tone.
"Maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you." Dean shrugged
"They're in St. Louis. We're going," Sam declared determination in his voice resulting in Dean to chuckle lightly in disbelief.
"Look, sorry 'bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem." Dean attempted to dissuade him.
"It is our problem. They're my friends. Our friends," Sam emphasized, glancing at Nancy for support.
"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam," Dean pointed out.
"So?" Nancy interjected, her voice unwavering and as their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. Without another word, they pulled out of the gas station and merged back onto the road, their destination set for St. Louis and as they headed that way Nancy began to reflect on all the times she went to visit Sam at Stanford.
She remembered how he introduced her to his friends, and how they all quickly became her friends too. They would spend hours hanging out together, laughing, sharing stories, and making memories. Sam's friends were always so sweet and welcoming to her, and she cherished the bond they had formed.
Now, faced with the news of Zack's arrest for murder, it just didn't seem right. Nancy couldn't reconcile the image of the kind, gentle Zack she knew with the accusation against him. It was unfathomable to her that one of their own could be capable of such a heinous act, especially against someone they loved. But maybe after all, Dean was right and her and Sam couldn't read people as well as they thought. But she knew there was only one way to find out and that was to see it for herself.
As they arrived at Rebecca's front door, they knocked and almost immediately after Rebecca opened the door to her house, her face lighting up with a mix of surprise and joy as she saw Sam, Nancy and Dean standing on her doorstep.
"Oh my God, Sam! Nancy!" Rebecca exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine happiness.
"Well, if it isn't little Becky," Sam teased with a smirk, prompting a playful shove from Rebecca.
"You know what you can do with that little Becky crap," Rebecca retorted, laughing as she hugged Sam tightly. Turning to Nancy, her smile widened before pulling Nancy into a hug as well causing Nancy to return the hug warmly.
"I got your e-mail," Sam said, his expression serious as he addressed Rebecca.
"I didn't think that you would come here." Rebecca admitted as she glanced at Dean confused onto who he was making Dean step forward, offering a handshake.
"Dean. Older brother," Dean introduced himself with a nod.
"Hi." Rebecca shook his hand with a grateful smile.
"Hi," Dean replied, his tone gentle yet firm.
"We're here to help. Whatever we can do." Nancy spoke up, her voice filled with sincerity.
"Come in," Rebecca nodded appreciatively as she gestured for them to enter.
As they stepped into the warmth of the house, Dean closed the door behind them.
"Nice place." Dean nodded appreciatively glancing around the living room.
"It's my parents'. 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." Rebecca sighed softly.
"Where are your folks?" Nancy inquired her brows furrowed with concern.
"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're on their way home now for the trial," Rebecca explained as they entered the kitchen. "Do you guys want a beer or something?"
"Hey—" Dean's grin widened as he began to accept but Sam cut him off with a shake of his head.
"No, thanks. So, tell us what happened." Sam dismissed
"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." Tears welled in Rebecca's eyes as she spoke. "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." Nancy suggested.
"We could," Dean agreed.
"Why? I mean, what could you do?" Rebecca hesitated
"Well, us, not much. But Dean's a cop." Sam interjected as Dean chuckled.
"Detective, actually," Dean clarified with a proud grin.
"Really?" Rebecca's eyes widened with surprise.
"Bisbee, Arizona. But I'm off-duty now," Dean added.
"You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just—I don't know." Rebecca replied uncertainly.
"Bec, look, I know Zack didn't do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent." Sam's expression turned serious.
"Okay. I'm gonna go get the keys," Rebecca said, walking away down the hall.
"Oh, yeah, man, you're a real straight shooter with your friends." Dean commented in a snarky tone.
"Look, Zack and Becky need our help." Sam defended himself.
"I just don't think this is our kind of problem." Dean sighed
"Two places at once? We've looked into less." Nancy interjected firmly causing Dean to fall silent, conceding to her point as Rebekah led the group to Zack's house, the group piled out onto the pavement as Rebecca glanced nervously at Dean.
"You're sure this is okay?" Rebecca asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Yeah. I am an officer of the law." Dean straightened his posture, trying to maintain a serious demeanor, but a small smirk played at the corner of his lips.
As they began to walk towards the house, Nancy struggled to suppress a laugh at Dean's comment. She bit her lip, trying to maintain her composure as she glanced at her feet.
Once Sam, Nancy, and Dean cautiously stepped into the house, they let their eyes scan the scene before them. The once cozy interior was now a chilling image of smeared blood on the furniture and walls. Rebecca lingered on the porch steps, her gaze fixed on the grim sight.
"Bec, you wanna wait outside?" Nancy offered as she turned to Rebecca, concern evident in her voice.
"No. I wanna help." Rebecca shook her head determinedly before she ducked under the police tape and entered the house.
"Tell us what else the police said." Sam approached her, his voice gentle resulting in tears to well up in Rebecca's eyes as she recounted the grim details.
"Well, there's no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers—they're already talking about plea bargain." She looked around the room, overcome with emotion. "Oh, God...."
"Look, Bec, if Zack didn't do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?" Sam pressed further, his expression earnest. Rebecca shook her head, her thoughts scattered in the chaos of the moment. But then, a memory flickered to life in her mind.
"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," Rebecca recalled, her voice trembling with uncertainty. As Sam walked away to explore further, Dean and Nancy moved to the open front door, where the neighbor's dog barked loudly.
"You know, that used to be the sweetest dog." Rebecca joined them, her voice filled with sorrow.
"What happened?" Dean's brows furrowed in concern.
"He just changed," Rebecca replied sadly.
"Do you remember when he changed?" Nancy pressed for more information.
"I guess around the time of the murder." Rebecca nodded slowly causing Dean to exchange a meaningful glance with Nancy before walking away resulting in Nancy to follow him until they came across Sam in the hallway, his gaze fixed on a framed picture of himself, Zack, Nancy, and Rebecca. Dean and Nancy approached him, their expressions grave.
"So, the neighbor's dog went psycho right around the time Zack's girlfriend was killed," Dean remarked.
"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal." Nancy suggested
"Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin'." Dean nodded in agreement.
"So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?" Sam contemplated their words.
"No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure." Dean hesitated before responding.
"Yeah." Sam agreed with a nod as Rebecca approached them causing Dean to turn to the girl, his tone serious.
"So, the tape. The security footage—you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, 'cause I just don't have that kind of jurisdiction." Dean wondered curiously "I've already got it. I didn't wanna say something in front of the cop." Rebecca chuckled softly. "I stole it off the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself."
"All right." Dean grinned approvingly
As they returned to Rebecca's house to watch the tape the group sat in the living room gathered around the TV, their eyes fixed on the security footage playing before them as Rebecca pointed towards the screen.
"Here he comes," Rebecca announced as the tape showed Zack entering his house.
"22:04, that's just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30." Dean leaned forward, studying the timestamp.
"Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape's authentic. It wasn't tampered with." Rebecca nodded solemnly. Nancy and Sam exchanged a knowing glance as they seemed to notice something peculiar on the tape.
"Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?" Nancy asked.
"Oh, sure," Rebecca replied, getting up to go to the kitchen.
"Hey." Sam called after her causing her to turn around, "Maybe some sandwiches, too?"
"What do you think this is, Hooters?" Rebecca remarked with a playful smirk and with that, she left the room. Dean took this opportunity to approach Sam and Nancy.
"What is it?" Dean inquired curiosity etched on his face making Nancy gestured towards the TV screen.
"Check this out." She rewound the tape and then replayed it. One of the frames showed Zack looking directly at the camera, his eyes gleaming silver. Nancy paused the tape, the gravity of the moment sinking in.
"Well, maybe it's just a camera flare." Dean pondered for a moment.
"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." Sam shook his head in dismissal.
"Right." Dean nodded in agreement.
"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." Nancy added on
"Like a Doppelganger." Dean concluded as the pieces started to fall into place.
"Yeah. It'd sure explain how he was two places at once." Sam agreed as the realization hung heavy in the air as they contemplated the implications of their discovery.
The next morning, Dean, Nancy, and Sam parked their car behind Zack's house and stepped out, the early morning light casting long shadows around them.
"Alright, so what are we doin' here at 5:30 in the morning?" Dean wondered tiredly
"I realized something. The videotape shows the killer goin' in, but not comin' out." Sam replied his expression serious.
"So, he came out the back door?" Dean raised an eyebrow in realization.
"Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue," Sam explained.
"'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." Dean sighed, still trying to fully wake up as Sam scanned the surroundings and noticed blood smeared on a nearby telephone pole. "Blood. Somebody came this way."
"Yeah, but the trail ends. I don't see anything over here." Nancy chimed in, her eyes scanning the area as an ambulance drove past them, its sirens wailing, and they exchanged a knowing look knowing they had to follow.
Once they made it to the ambulances designation Dean, Nancy, and Sam observed the scene from a distance as an Asian man was handcuffed and led into a police car making Nancy approached a nearby woman.
"What happened?" Nancy asked the woman curiously.
"He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her." The woman shook her head in disbelief.
"Really?" Sam asked surprised.
"I used to see him going to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy." The woman nodded solemnly as they watched in silence as the man was driven away.
The group then decided to continue searching around the house leading to Sam and Nancy were on the side of the house, meticulously searching for clues. Sam peered inside two garbage cans but found nothing, while Nancy scanned the area nearby. As Sam approached her, he looked expectantly.
"Anything?" Sam inquired.
"No, nothing. We should check the front." Nancy sighed in frustration. Sam nodded in agreement, and the two of them made their way to the front of the house. Suddenly, Dean appeared behind them, causing them to turn around.
"Hey," Dean greeted them, his tone serious. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"
"Yeah." Sam nodded confused
"Definitely our kind of problem." Dean admitted
"What'd you find out?" Nancy asked curiously
"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." Dean informed the duo
"So, he was two places at once." Nancy connected the dots.
"Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house, police think he's a nutjob." Dean confirmed her suspicion.
"Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way." Sam mused aloud, piecing together the puzzle.
"Could be the same thing doin' it, too." Dean elaborated further.
"Shapeshifter?" Nancy suggested making Dean shrug. "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." Dean nodded, acknowledging the possibility.
"Right, skinwalkers, werewolves." Sam nodded in agreement.
"We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessin' we've got a shapeshifter prowlin' the neighborhood." Dean concluded
"Let me ask you this—in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" Sam posed an intriguing question making Nancy furrow her eyebrows confused.
"Not that I know of." Dean admitted just as confused
"I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way." Sam informed sharing his discovery.
"Just like your friend's house." Dean furrowed his brow in thought.
"Yeah. And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared." Sam continued, his voice tinged with concern.
"Well, there's another way to go—down." Dean's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the area and their eyes landed on a nearby manhole causing them to all look down, contemplating their next move.
Shortly after, Nancy, Dean, and Sam descended into the murky depths of the sewer, their flashlights cutting through the darkness as they scanned their surroundings
"I bet this runs right by Zack's house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around," Sam suggested, his voice echoing off the damp walls. Dean nodded in agreement, his eyes focused on something ahead. "I think you're right. Look at this."
They bent down to examine a pile of blood and skin on the ground, their expressions twisted in disgust.
"Is this from his victims?" Nancy asked, her eyes wide with disbelief. Dean retrieved a pocketknife and carefully lifted a piece of the skin.
"You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds." Dean suggested making Sam recoil at the gruesome revelation.
"That is sick." Sam cringed in disgust as Dean placed the bloody pile back on the ground, and they continued their exploration until they returned back to the car to get their weapons ready.
"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." Dean opened the trunk of the car, retrieving various weapons with practiced ease.
"Silver bullet to the heart." Sam nodded, determination in his eyes.
"That's right," Dean affirmed as Sam's cell phone rang.
"This is Sam," he spoke into the phone before stepping aside to take the call.
As they busied themselves with the weapons, Nancy and Dean's playful banter escalated into a knife fight. Their movements were quick and precise, each trying to outmaneuver the other in their impromptu duel. With a sudden twist, Dean managed to gain the upper hand, pinning Nancy against the car with a firm grip.
"You've got to do better than that if you want to beat a Winchester," Dean teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he held her in place. Nancy's competitive spirit flared, and with a surge of determination, she summoned all her strength and skill. In a swift and surprising move, she overpowered Dean, flipping them around so she was now the one pinning him against the car.
Their heavy breaths mingled in the air as they locked eyes, the intensity of their stares reflecting the pounding of their hearts. In that moment, the playful banter faded into the background, replaced by a charged silence that crackled with unspoken tension. Dean's expression shifted from amusement to surprise, a flicker of admiration shining in his eyes as he found himself caught off guard by Nancy's strength and determination.
"Cocky much?" Nancy quipped, a playful smirk gracing her lips as she looked down at Dean.
"Very much so," Dean replied, his smirk mirroring hers as he met her gaze. Then, with a soft exhale, Nancy released Dean, stepping back slightly as they both caught their breath. The electric energy that had passed between them lingered, a silent reminder of the unspoken feelings that simmered beneath the surface.
Just then, Sam approached, his expression bore a mixture of disappointment and concern, catching the attention of Dean and Nancy amidst their banter.
"I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talkin' about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they'd be freaked. It's just—it'd be easier if—" Dean's tone shifted, his words carrying a weight of underlying concern.
"If I was like you." Sam cut in, completing Dean's thought with a hint of resignation.
"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 punctuated his statement by holding up a gun, passing it to Sam, who stowed it in the back of his jeans before they resumed their journey.
In the dimly lit sewer, the trio of hunters pressed forward cautiously, their flashlights cutting through the thick darkness like knives.
"I think we're close to its lair," Dean muttered, his voice a low rumble.
"Why do you say that?" Sam glanced around, his expression tense.
"Because there's another puke-inducing pile next to your face," Dean retorted, gesturing towards a gruesome mound of blood and skin on a nearby pipe.
"Oh, God..." Sam recoiled in disgust, his stomach churning.
Their investigation led them deeper into the labyrinthine tunnels, where they stumbled upon a pile of clothes huddled in a corner.
"It looks like it's lived here for a while," Nancy observed grimly, her grip tightening on her weapon.
"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with?" Sam muttered darkly, his eyes scanning their surroundings with heightened vigilance. Suddenly, the shapeshifter struck, still disguised as the Asian man they had encountered earlier. Sam's warning came too late as the creature delivered a powerful blow to Dean, sending him crashing to the ground.
"Dean!" Sam shouted, his gun raised as he fired futilely at the retreating shapeshifter. With determination, the trio pursued the elusive creature through the winding tunnels and emerged onto the streets above, their adrenaline-fueled chase continuing.
"All right, let's split up," Sam decided, his voice firm with resolve.
"I'll meet you around the other side." Dean nodded in agreement. As they dispersed, Nancy prowled the streets alone, her senses heightened, her gun concealed beneath her jacket. After not coming across anything she waited anxiously for Sam and Dean to returned when Dean approached her from behind.
"Hey," Dean greeted her "Anything?"
"No. He's gone," Nancy confirmed, her tone grim.
"All right, let's get back to the car and wait for Sam." Dean nodded, his expression hardened resulting in the two to cross the street, but a faint glimmer of doubt flickered in her mind, a nagging suspicion clawing at the edges of her consciousness. She turned back to face Dean, her instincts screaming a warning that this wasn't Dean.
"You think he found another way underground?" Nancy's question hung in the air, lingering like a dark omen.
"Yeah, probably. You got the keys?" Dean responded smoothly. Nancy hesitated, her mind racing as she recalled fragments of past encounters.
"Hey, didn't Sam say that John once faced a shapeshifter in San Antonio?" Nancy recalled as a sinister smile played across Dean's lips as it corrected her with chilling precision.
"Oh, that was Austin." Dean corrected and with a sinking feeling in her gut, Nancy handed over the keys, her suspicions mounting with each passing second. But as the shapeshifter opened the trunk and gazed upon their arsenal of weapons, a sense of impending danger gripped her heart like a vice.
"Don't move!" Nancy's voice was sharp, her gun trained unwaveringly on the shapeshifter. But the creature remained unfazed, its façade crumbling as Nancy pierced through its deceit with unyielding determination.
"What have you done with him?" Nancy demanded "Nancy, chill. It's me, all right?" the shapeshifter pleaded, its voice tinged with desperation.
"No, I don't think so. Where's Dean?" Nancy's voice was firm, her eyes blazing with defiance.
"You're about to shoot him. Nancy, calm down." The shapeshifter's response was swift, its words dripping with false concern.
"You caught those keys with your left. Your shoulder was hurt," Nancy countered, her voice laced with accusation.
"Yeah, it's better. What do you want me to do, cry?" the shapeshifter taunted, its words dripping with disdain.
"You're not Dean," Nancy asserted, her voice ringing with certainty. The shapeshifter's façade shattered in an instant, its true nature laid bare for all to see. With a swift and brutal blow, it lashed out at Nancy, the force of the impact sending her crashing to the ground. As darkness closed in around her, Nancy fought to stay conscious, her mind awash with the echoes of her defiance.
As Nancy regained consciousness in the dimly lit room, her senses slowly coming back to her, she realized with a sinking feeling that she was bound to a wooden post. Panic surged through her veins as she struggled against her restraints, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Where is he? Where's Dean?" Nancy demanded, her voice laced with urgency and fear.
"I wouldn't worry about him. I'd worry about you." The shapeshifter approached her with a malevolent grin, its eyes gleaming with malice.
"Where is he?" Nancy pressed, her voice trembling with desperation.
"You don't really wanna know," The shapeshifter taunted, its tone dripping with cruelty. "I swear, the more I learn about you and your relationship with the Winchesters—I thought I came from a bad background."
"What do you mean, learn?" Nancy's voice trembled with uncertainty, 'Dean' suddenly grabbed his head in pain and grimaces making Nancy look at him confused and then suddenly 'Dean' relaxes and looks at Nancy.
"He's sure got issues with you," the shapeshifter confessed, its voice tinged with bitterness. "You left. Got engaged. You broke his heart, Nancy."
Nancy's heart clenched at the mention of Dean's pain, her own guilt weighing heavily upon her shoulders.
"Where is Dean?" Nancy pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. The shapeshifter leaned in close, its breath hot against Nancy's skin as it whispered its twisted version of the truth.
"I am Dean," the shapeshifter declared, its words dripping with malice. "See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You got the perfect life. You got to leave. Me? I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later, everybody's gonna leave me, just like you did."
"What are you talkin' about?" Nancy demanded, her voice trembling with defiance.
"You left. So did Sam," the shapeshifter spat, its voice dripping with venomous disdain. "Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin', just poof. But, still, this life? It's not without its perks." he let out a chuckle, a sickening grin spreading across its face. "I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky," the shapeshifter sneered, its voice dripping with malice. "You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let's see what happens."
Nancy's blood boiled at the mention of Becky, her protective instincts kicking into overdrive. Despite the fear and uncertainty gripping her, a surge of protectiveness surged within her chest. Becky was her friend, and she refused to let the shapeshifter take advantage or hurt her. But mingled with the protectiveness was a bitter twinge of jealousy—a gnawing ache in the pit of Nancy's stomach. She couldn't deny the pang of envy that surged through her as she imagined Dean with someone else, even if it was just a sick fantasy conjured by the shapeshifter. The shapeshifter's smile widened, a twisted satisfaction gleaming in its eyes as it covered Nancy with a sheet. It reveled in its manipulation, knowing that it had struck a nerve with Nancy, twisting her emotions to its advantage.
After the shapeshifter left, Nancy struggled against her bonds, frustration evident in the furrow of her brow and the tense set of her jaw. With each futile attempt to free herself, the ropes seemed to tighten, mocking her efforts.
"Damn it," Nancy muttered under her breath, her voice laced with frustration and determination. Suddenly, the stillness of the room was shattered by the sound of movement from another area, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone coughing. Nancy's heart leaped with hope as she recognized the familiar voice.
"That better be you, Nance, and not that freak of nature," came Dean's voice from nearby. A wave of relief washed over Nancy as she chuckled in response, the tension in her muscles easing slightly at the sound of her friend's voice.
"Yeah, it's me," came Nancy's voice, confirming his suspicions.
With renewed determination, Nancy had managed to get the blanket that laid over her head off and once she was able to see she noticed Sam and Dean also tied up nearby. Nancy immediately glanced at Dean.
"He went to Rebecca's, lookin' like you," Nancy informed them, her tone filled with urgency as she glanced between the two boys.
"Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one," Dean quipped, earning a puzzled and slightly hurt look from Sam as they each individually attempted to free themselves.
"Yeah, that's the thing. He didn't just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you." Nancy concluded as Dean finally works his way out of the ropes.
"What do you mean?" Dean inquired, his voice tinged with apprehension.
"I don't know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories." Nancy recalled
"You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?" Sam suggested.
"Yeah, somethin' like that. I mean, maybe that's why he doesn't just kill us," Nancy theorized.
"Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection," Dean mused, a sense of urgency creeping into his voice. With a renewed sense of purpose, Dean set to work untying Nancy's ropes, and once she was free, they rushed over to assist Sam in freeing himself.
"Hands. Yeah. Come on, we gotta go. He's probably at Rebecca's already," Sam urged, his tone urgent.
Climbing out of the window and onto the street, the trio hurried along the alley, their senses heightened with the looming threat of their doppelganger.
"Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police," Sam suggested, his voice tense with urgency.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You're gonna put an APB out on me," Dean protested.
"Sorry," Sam replied simply with a shrug. Leading the way, Dean guided them down the street, their footsteps quickening as they moved with purpose. As they passed by a store window displaying a news report, Dean's frustration peaked at the sight of his own sketch being broadcasted.
"Man! That's not even a good picture," Dean grumbled, his annoyance palpable.
"It's good enough," Sam reasoned, striding away with purpose.
Regrouping in the alley, Dean, Nancy, and Sam discussed their next steps, determined to track down the shapeshifter and put an end to his reign of terror.
"They said attempted murder. At least we know --" Sam began, his voice tinged with grim determination.
"I didn't kill her," Dean asserted firmly.
"We'll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she's all right," Nancy suggested, her voice carrying a note of concern for their friend.
"All right, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him," Dean declared with determination, his fists clenched in anger.
"We have no weapons. No silver bullets," Sam pointed out.
"The guy's walkin' around with my face, okay, it's a little personal, I wanna find him," Dean insisted, his voice tight with frustration.
"Okay. Where do we look?" Sam queried.
"Well, we could start with the sewers," Dean proposed.
"We have no weapons. He stole our guns, we need more," Sam countered once more.
"The car?" Nancy suggested, recalling the news report they had seen earlier.
"I'm bettin' he drove over to Rebecca's," Dean surmised, his voice tinged with agitation.
"The news said he fled on foot. I bet it's still parked there," Nancy reasoned.
"The thought of him drivin' my car," Dean lamented, his voice thick with emotion.
"All right, come on," Sam urged, leading the way as they resumed their journey.
"It's killin' me," Dean muttered under his breath, his voice heavy with frustration.
"Let it go," Nancy advised, her voice calm and steady, grounding them in the midst of chaos.
Once they got to the side of Rebecca's house, Dean's relief was clear as he caught sight of his beloved car.
"Oh, there she is! Finally, something went right tonight," Dean exclaimed, a glimmer of hope breaking through the chaos. But their moment of respite was short-lived as a police car appeared and parked next to Dean's car, sending a jolt of panic through the group.
"Oh, crap," Dean muttered, his heart sinking at the sight of the flashing lights. "This way, this way," he urged, leading the way towards a nearby fence, his voice urgent with determination.
"You two go. I'll hold 'em off," Sam declared, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.
"What are you talking about? They'll catch you," Dean protested, his voice laced with concern as he watched Sam prepare to confront the approaching police.
"Look, they can't hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca's," Sam insisted, his voice steady with conviction.
As Dean began to climb over the fence, Sam's urgent call halted him in his tracks. "Guys," Sam called out his tone grave and serious demanding the duo's attention. "Stay out of the sewers," Sam warned, his words a final plea for caution.
"Yeah, yeah!" Dean's voice echoed faintly in the night as he waited for Nancy to hop the fence and the two disappeared into the shadows and immediately began their way towards Dean's car. Dean stands at the trunk, swiftly gathering weapons and ammunition, his movements purposeful and efficient as he passes a few to Nancy.
"I'm sorry, Sam. But you know us—we just can't wait," he admits, his words a testament to his impatience and the driving need to take action as Nancy hummed in agreement sticking her weapons into her leather jacket.
As Dean and Nancy cautiously navigate through the dark and damp sewer tunnels, their flashlights casting eerie shadows on the walls. Their senses are on high alert, every sound echoing ominously in the confined space. Their exploration leads them to a chamber filled with an unsettling display of candles and chains, the air thick with the stench of decay. Revolting piles of skin and blood litter the floor, a grim reminder of the horrors lurking in the depths below.
Suddenly, their attention is drawn to a faint noise echoing from another part of the sewer. Dean and Nancy exchange a tense glance before moving swiftly towards the source of the disturbance. As they approach, they come upon a large figure covered by a sheet, ominous in its stillness. With trembling hands, Nancy reaches out and removes the sheet, revealing the bound and helpless form of Rebecca, her eyes wide with fear and confusion.
"Rebecca?" Nancy's voice trembles with emotion as she addresses her friend, disbelief and concern evident in her tone. As her and Dean work together to untie Rebecca's ropes, their movements quick and determined.
"What happened?" Nancy asks, her voice tinged with urgency.
"I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don't know, how is that even possible?" Rebecca recounts, her voice trembling with fear and confusion.
"Okay, okay. It's okay," Dean murmurs, his focus on freeing Rebecca from her bonds. With practiced hands, Nancy helps Dean finish untying Rebecca, their movements swift yet gentle as they helps her to her feet. "Come on. Can you walk?" he inquires, his concern evident in his eyes. Rebecca nods, her determination shining through despite her ordeal. "Okay, we've gotta hurry. Sam went to see you," Dean informs her causing the to begin their navigation out of the sewage and to Rebecca's house.
As Dean, Nancy, and Rebecca entered Rebecca's house, the tension hung heavy in the air, amplified by the sound of Sam and the shapeshifter locked in a violent struggle in the living room. With a silent exchange, Nancy motioned for Rebecca to stay quiet, her finger pressed to her lips, to which Rebecca nodded in understanding.
Suddenly, the noise escalated as Sam and the shapeshifter crashed into a coffee table, the impact creating a cacophony of shattered glass and splintered wood. Reacting swiftly, Dean and Nancy rushed into the room, their hearts pounding with adrenaline-fueled urgency.
"Hey!" Dean's voice rang out, drawing the attention of the shapeshifter, who turned to face him with a menacing glare. Without hesitation, the two adversaries engaged in a brutal confrontation, fists flying and bodies colliding in a flurry of motion. Amidst the chaos, Sam managed to catch his breath, silently regrouping in the shadows as he prepared to join the fray. Sensing the impending danger, Nancy's sharp intuition kicked in.
"Dean, duck!" Nancy shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos as she aimed her gun at the shapeshifter. With deadly accuracy, she fired two shots directly at the creature's heart before it could react, causing it to stagger and collapse to the ground, lifeless. Shortly after, Rebecca rushed into the room, her eyes wide with fear and relief as she spotted Sam lying on the floor.
"Sam!" Rebecca exclaimed, hurrying to his side to check on his well-being.
Meanwhile, Dean approached the fallen shapeshifter's body, his eyes drawn to the necklace adorning its neck. His necklace. With a determined grip, he yanked the necklace free, a silent acknowledgment passing between him, Nancy, Sam, and Rebecca.
After finishing off their hunt, Nancy bid goodbye to her friend before joining Dean by the car. Leaving Rebecca and Sam to have their proper goodbye as she joined Dean he greeted her with a small smile.
"That was a good shot in there," Dean complimented
"Thanks," Nancy smiled in response
"Aren't you going to say goodbye to Rebecca?" Dean wondered
"I did, inside. Letting Sam have his time, they were closer than we were." Nancy shrugged
"So you and Sam... you guys kept in touch after you left?" Dean recognized
"Yeah, didn't he tell you?" Nancy wondered
"He told me you guys talked, I just never knew you were visiting his college and meeting his friends. I thought that when you left, you were leaving us in the past. Or was that just me?" Dean inquired
"Dean..." Nancy began making Dean shake his head in dismissal as he saw Sam approach.
"Never mind, forget about it. It's in the past." Dean shrugged it off but Nancy couldn't seem to. As she recalled what the shapeshifter said she wondered if that was how Dean really felt or if the shapeshifter was just trying to get in her head -- and if that was the case, he succeeded.