Hey, found this on my computer from a while back and remembered that I hadn't posted it yet. I am rather pleased with this one and hope you like it x

I do not own the boys, if only :S Warning for swearing on occasion.

Enjoy…

Chapter 1

John quickly rounded a corner into an old reading room, gun hand outstretched, ready to shoot any son of a bitch who dared to come anywhere near him. It was the twenty-fourth room that they had searched; he made a mental note never to search a mansion again. John was not in a good mood. He was tired, fed up, hungry and still slightly drunk from a lunchtime-pub crawl. All in all, John Winchester was dangerous.

"All clear, come on boys." The next figure to walk in was lanky, wearing a scruffy grey hoodie, jeans and a frown. His long brown hair was flopping into his eyes and he looked almost as pissed off as John, but not for the same reasons.

"Dad can we go now? There's nothing here, this is a waste of time. I have homework due in tomorrow and I need to proof-read my essay before I hand it in to Mr Dant. He predicted me an A and I don't want to let him down!"

"No Sammy, I call the shots around here and I think a poltergeist is more important than your history homework, don't you?"

"No, I don't. I want to go back; I don't see why I had to come. You and Dean could have done this alone, it's not like anything is happening. How am I mean to get anywhere in life if I don't get good grades?"

"YOU DON'T NEED GOOD GRADES TO BE A HUNTER, NOW SHUT UP BEFORE I AM FORCED TO USE THIS GUN."

"Dad, Sammy?" That was when a rather dejected looking Dean entered the room, he had been back marker, guarding Sammy from behind, which of course left himself unprotected, not that Dean cared.

"WHAT?" Dean was met with two equally indignant raised voices. Great, do they ever stop fighting?

"Please stop arguing for one moment, you're doing my head in. Anyway, there's only one more room to…" Dean was cut off by the sound of shattering glass. He whipped around to stare at Sammy, who had gone white and then saw a million little shards of blue glass littering the floor.

"Please tell me you knocked that vase over with one of your overly lanky arms?"

"Nope."

"Get down!" John Winchester's cry was the only warning that eleven year old Sam and fifteen year old Dean got before they were thrown backwards into a wall.

"Boy's!"

"M'fine Dad." Dean managed to stumble to his feet, grimacing when a searing hot pain shot through his leg. He glanced down and saw that his jeans were already starting to turn red. Damn it! Dean carefully prodded at the wound, it was deep, really deep, but now was not the time to be a girl; he would stitch the cut up later.

Once he had orientated himself Dean took a few steps towards Sam, offering him a hand up, glad that his younger brother looked slightly dazed but was otherwise unhurt. Dean then moved away from his brother and began looking around wearily with his gun tight in hand. He was keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of movement, although the furniture was all still and nothing was flying around the room. It was eerie.

"Where is it Dad?" Sam sounded slightly shaken despite his efforts to contain his fear. He hadn't failed to notice that Dean was bleeding, although he knew that Dean would not let him tend to the wound until the fugly had been snuffed out like a candle.

"Your guess is as good as mine. COME OUT YOU SON OF A BITCH, I AM SO NOT IN THE MOOD TO PLAY GAMES. GET YOU'RE ASS OUT HERE SO I CAN GIVE IT A GOOD KICKING!" That was when a solid oak bookcase suddenly went flying, knocking John aside into a wall, where he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"DAD!" Dean sprinted over to his father, who did not respond when Dean gave him a gentle shake.

"Dad wake up, DAD! Open your eyes dammit!" John still did not make a sound, in fact he just slumped further down against the wall when Dean let go of his shoulders. Dean grimaced and began to pressed his hand gently to the back of John's head, flinching when something warm and sticky coated his fingers.

"Sam, Sammy help me, I need a cloth or something!" Dean held a hand out expectantly, turning around when he didn't hear his brother's footsteps.

"Sam? Where are you?" Dean quickly yanked off his own T-shirt and wrapped it around his father's head, it was all he could do for now. Leaving his leather jacket on the floor Dean scrambled to his feet, staring around in blind panic. His brother had vanished into thin air! No Dean, that's not possible. Then Dean spotted his younger brother.

"Shit, SAMMY!"

Sam was lying in the floor with his eyes screwed tight shut in agony, his leg having been crushed beneath the oak bookcase.

"Sammy, Sammy can you hear me? Open your eyes Sam, it'll be ok, I've got you. I'm right here."

"D-Dean." Sam didn't open his eyes, his voice was a low whimper that caught in his throat.

"Just breath Sammy, I'm gonna try and get this off you."

"D'nt. Hurts."

"I've got to, we need to get you out of here. It will just take a moment." Dean wiped the tears from Sam's eyes before standing and getting a good hold on the bookcase. He struggled with all his might to shift the furniture but it was solid wood and might as well have weighed a tonne. There was no way Dean could lift it. He could hear his little brother sobbing and letting out howl of pain, each one driving a dagger even deeper into Dean's heart.

"Shit!"

"Dean..." Sam was hit by another roll of pain which caused him to scream out so loudly that Dean flinched.

"S'okay. Sam, breathe Sam. C'mon, breathe through it."

"Gahhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Sam let out another howl and began to thrash frantically, his mind numb with burning pain.

"Sammy, please, calm down." Dean forced himself to remain calm when he saw his brother sobbing and dry heaving, hands flailing and clawing at the floor.

"Make it stooooop!" Dean hoisted his brother into his arms and held him close, trying to stop Sam from moving and causing any more damage.

"You're ok little brother, just try and relax, you can pass out if you need to, I won't take the mick, I promise." Sam whimpered and buried his face into Dean's bare chest, clawing at his brother's back for support and leaving behind deep scratches which Dean ignored.

"I've got you."

"Dean?"

"I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

"S'rry." Sam let out a tiny whimper before he passed out causing Dean to relax slightly when he felt his younger brother slump against him; at least he wasn't in any more pain.

Dean didn't have a clue about what to do. He needed to get the bookcase off Sam's leg, but didn't want to cause any more damage and there was no way he was going to be able to lift it on his own. He needed his Dad to wake up and help him, and they needed to salt and burn that poltergeist before anything else could go wrong, speaking of which, where was the poltergeist?

Dean was immediately made aware of where the poltergeist was when a framed tapestry depicting a boat in the middle of a storm fell to the ground, the frame splintering. Dean growled deep in the back of his throat before laying Sam down on the ground and standing. He knew that he had to get the poltergeist away from his family, they couldn't fight back at the moment and there was no way that Dean could defend them and fight the spirit at the same time. He had to lead it away, it was his only option. It was his job.

"Hey, want a piece of this perky ass, well, who doesn't. Come and get it!" Dean turned and sprinted from the reading room, gasping when he put pressure on his injured leg but ignoring the pain. It was a small sacrifice. Dean was alerted that he was being followed when a photo frame whizzed past his right ear, and then when an ornamental sword flew off its bracket and cut deep into Dean's shoulder. Dean fell to the ground momentarily but used a banister to hoist himself back to his feet. He had made it to one of the grand staircases and decided that upstairs was one of his best options, as far away from his brother as possible

He scrambled up the steps and through the last door at the end of the landing. Then, he whipped around and waited, firing his salt-loaded gun into nothingness when he felt the air to his right turn cold.

"Where are you? Now that you got me into the bedroom you could at least have the courtesy to show your face. If this relationship is going any further then I at least want to know what you look…ahh!" Dean was cut off when he was thrown backwards into something solid, and then everything went black.

What the hell? Am I unconscious, this is new…I swear I don't normally feel this awake when I am out of it…wait a sec…my leg hurts. Right, not unconscious then…

Suddenly a jolting sensation hit Dean and his stomach seemed to roll, along with the rest of Dean's world. That was when it hit him. He was trapped somewhere dark and now the door of whatever it was that he was trapped in, was face down. Dean began punching and kicking at the wall now above him, bruising his knuckles and eventually giving up when he felt the skin beginning to tear.

Pull yourself together Dean, you will get out.

Dean reached out a hand and tried to feel around him, gasping slightly when he felt four solid walls surrounding him. Shit.

"HEY FUGLY, LET ME THE HELL OUT! I AM SO NOT INTO THIS KINKY STUFF, IF WE ARE GOING TO HAVE FUN IN THE BEDROOM YOU BETTER LET ME OUT OF HERE. NOW YOU SON OF A BITCH. LET ME OUT!" Dean didn't hear or feel anything happening, well that was plan A scuppered….

Hope you liked it, please review. Reviews are like salt to a hunter, my life depends on them! x

Next chapter in a couple of days xxx