Author's note: Well between losing the internet and my computer crashing and burning, I'm kind of wondering if fate is trying to tell me something about this story…I say screw fate.

No Beta, so I take responsibility for all stuff ups grammatical and logical.

Chapter 1

John stood alone in the corridor, suddenly confused as to why the silent corridor should be a bad thing and why he had stopped walking. He quickly scanned the area, wondering if perhaps the thing he was hunting was nearby, but only the empty dark hallway stared back at him.

The gunshot from down the hall quickly focussed his thoughts, causing him to move down the corridor briskly, weary of what he may find in the room the gunshot had emanated from. His thoughts now hovering between finally being able to catch this thing and that his boys were in trouble.

John busted through the door leading to the room where the shot had originated. He saw his eldest son half laying on the floor and his youngest stood over him.

Lifting his gun into position, John cased the room, while still trying to keep an eye on his boys, "Where is it?" The question was blunt and demanding.

"It got away." Dean gasped from his position on the floor.

"Did you hit it?" John questioned, doing a final check of the room.

"No sir…it was too fast." Dean replied wearily his head dropping slightly at his father's accusing stare..

"No? I trained you for fast" John commented, his military mind coming to the fore.

"Sorry sir." Dean replied in like, while trying to sit upright.

"What are you doing on the floor? How are you supposed to protect yourself and Sam when you have no weapon and are on the floor Dean?" His disappointed at missing the creature and worry for his sons coming across as anger towards his eldest son.

"Sorry sir." Dean replied again, desperately trying to regain his composure and a vertical position in front of his father.

"Dad…" Sam's comment was stopped by the look his father directed at him, causing him to restart his comment. "Sir it threw him into the wall, he didn't have much choice in the matter."

"Regardless Sam, you let your guard down and people get hurt…and if you are going to discharge your weapon, make it count." John threw the last comment in the direction of his eldest before moving off to secure the entrances to the room.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam whispered as he crouched down next to his prone brother.

"Fine Sammy." Dean ground out, he was not feeling much pain but any movement was still making him wince. "Stop gawking and give me a hand up."

"Are you sure you should be standing up? Maybe you should sit for a while." Sam queried, hesitantly putting out a hand to assist his brother.

"I'm no use down here, help me up would you and stop looking at me like that." Dean replied, his comments a response to his father's grilling a few minutes before.

"But I heard…when you hit the wall." Sam whispered, the worry clear in his tone, he was sure his brother was more hurt then he was letting on.

"Later Sammy, Dad looks ready to move." Dean gestured towards their father, who was moving towards them, his intent clear.

John had only been partially listening to his sons in the background as he searched for traces of the creature they were tracking. He moved towards them ready to give the order to move out, when he was struck with a memory of an emotion…Dean injured, he shouldn't go…No longer moving.

"No!" John commanded.

"No?" Sam asked dumbfounded, wondering if his father had suddenly developed a bad sense of humour.

"You stay." John pointed at his eldest still on the floor leant against the mantle he had struck earlier. "Sam and I will deal with this."

"We will?" Sam asked again wondering what his father was playing at.

Ignoring the question, John turned to his youngest, "Sam get the gun and give it to your brother." He indicated the shotgun a few metres from them that Dean had evidently dropped earlier.

Dean was getting nervous and was frantically trying to stand up before his father could follow through on this new plan, "Dad you need back up, Sam needs back up, this thing is dangerous."

"I said sit." John directed, turning on his eldest, stopping the boy's upward movement.

"You need me." Dean tried to convince his father but the look on his face indicated more pleading then convincing.

"You're injured; you're no good to us…" John stopped as he realised what he was saying, but did not correct the comment even though the dejected look on one son's face and the skunk eye from the other made him consider correcting it.

"Yes Sir." Dean answered neutrally.

"Sam! Gun." John demanded as he gestured towards the shotgun in his youngest' hands.

Sam handed the shotgun over to his father, all the while staring at his father with a look of loathing that only a teenager could muster, "I don't think we should leave Dean alone Dad."

"I do not care what you think Sam; just get ready to move out." John directed as he checked the gun and put a couple of rounds in before handing it to Dean, "You do not move."

"Understood Sir." Dean replied, any of his earlier apprehension seemingly gone.

Sam growled under his breath before following his father out of the room, giving one final look towards his brother that had started to slump as soon as his father was no longer watching him.

John and Sam were moving around on the second floor of the old mansion, cautiously checking each room and trying to find any evidence of the creature.

Sam peered down the dark hallway, standing as back up for his father as he checked another room. Trying to remain silent was a task, given the debilitated state of the house, the floor groaned with nearly every step and all the doors creaked when they were opened. The only benefit Sam could see was that it was unlikely the creature would be able to sneak up on them.

Given the outcome of the last run in a thought occurred to Sam, which he quickly voiced, "Dad what are we going to do when this thing turns up?"

"You shoot it son." John replied austerely, not deterred from his scan of the room in front of him and oblivious to the roll of eyes behind him.

"What if the bullets don't work? And this thing was fast Dad, real fast." Sam responded, undeterred by his father's attitude and potential anger.

"Not faster then a bullet Sam." John commented, turning to his son as he shut the door of the room behind him; ten down, about another thirty to go. "You see it, you shoot it, it dies, we get to go home."

"But what if it doesn't die Dad, we don't even know what this thing is; let alone how to actually kill it." Sam was fully aware his father had reservations about the hunt and now that Dean was not there to interfere, he saw it as a good opportunity to have his say unimpeded…consequences be damned.

"Sam…" John's voice rose to a shout, the threat of an argument imminent, but it was cut short by a loud creaking from down the hall.

His son's goading quickly forgotten, John lifted his gun and searched the shadows for any sign of their prey. A shift of light and a shadow definitely moved. John ran down the hallway, gun at the ready. He shouted an order over his shoulder as he moved, "Sam heads up and stay behind me."

"I don't see it Dad." Sam called after his father, his gun now at the ready as he ran after him.

"Just follow my lead." John called back trying to see another shift of light in the gloomy hallway.

Losing sight of the creature, John started to pull up, silently cursing at how the thing had disappeared into the gloom. It had not gone through any doors, and the staircase was at the end of the hall.

"Dad?"

John held up his hand to silence his son as he strained to hear any sign of the creature, there was creak near the staircase drawing his attention and by default Sam's.

Sam stood watching his father's movements and had his gun at the ready in case the thing appeared; his concentration was drawn by a slight scratching sound behind him. He really started to wish Dean was there with them as he turned quickly to cover their backs in case the creature had somehow managed to double back on them. There was nothing in the hall in front of him, only the same gloomy atmosphere that faced his father behind him.

Sam let out a breath of relief, ready to turn back around when an unrecognisable sound came from above him. Before he could look up, the face of the creature dropped into his view, with its teeth barred, causing Sam to inadvertently yell out in surprise. Instinct took over as he lifted his gun and tried to shoot the thing and while he got a shot off the thing moved along the ceiling, dodging the bullet before swiping out at Sam with its talon like claws, catching Sam in the chest and causing him to now yell out in pain. As he collapsed to the floor Sam heard his father fire a few rounds at the creature as it skittered off along the ceiling.

It had all happened within seconds, one second John was looking down the hall, straining so hard to hear another groan or creak that he had missed any other sounds, the next his son shouted out in surprise, causing John to spin straight away just in time to see his son fire off a shot.

John could now see the creature defying gravity as it hung from the ceiling in front of his son and moving so fast to avoid the bullet. As he saw it lift its taloned hand towards his son, John tried to fire at it, but Sam blocked his shot, and it all happened so fast he did not have time to move to adjust his shot, before his son cried out and dropped to the floor.

Seeing his opportunity John fired at the thing as it ran off along the ceiling, he wanted to follow it, wanted to take it down, but looking at his injured son and knowing he had another son injured, John realised his hunt was over for the night.

"Sam, let me look." John remarked as he knelt down next to his son, surprisingly calm given the adrenalin coursing through his veins.

"Sorry Sir, I should have…" Sam started, wincing as his father lifted his bloodied shirt causing it catch on the cuts below.

"Don't, you did the best you could. This looks deep, we'll bandage it when we get to the car and then we'll stitch it when we get back to the hotel."

"Antibiotics too?" Sam questioned, the pain making his eyes shine bright and oh so young.

"Looks like…" John could not help but smile, knowing how much his son hated the medication. As much as Sam tested his patience and pushed his temper, he never wanted to see his boy hurt, either of them.

"Come on lets go get your brother and get out of here." John grabbed both their weapons and helped his son stand and supported his weight when he nearly went down again.

"What about that thing." Sam queried looking down the corridor in the direction the creature had moved off, hoping it had not gone to Dean.

"Looks like it will have to wait. I can't carry you, your brother and myself out of here. Plus I think we need more info on this thing, conventional weapons don't seem to be working."

That was the closest Sam would ever get to an 'I was wrong you were right' from his father. If not for the pain in his chest from his injuries and the worry for his brother, Sam may have hastened an 'I told you so'

They moved slowly down the corridor towards the stairs and down to the level below, overly alert for any signs of the creature, in front, below, behind and above.

As they moved from the stairs they could see Dean just ahead, propped up against the wall, the shotgun loose in his grasp.

"Dean, I thought I told you not to move." John commented as they approached him.

Not receiving any response, they hastened their pace, the injured Sam pulling ahead of his father's assisting grasp. "Dean?..." Sam called out before moving close enough to realise why his brother was not answering. "Oh god Dean."

Helping his youngest to the ground and handing him the weapons, John quickly moved to his eldest, taking his vitals. "Dammit, he's not breathing…and no pulse."

Pulling Dean away from the wall, he lay him flat on the floor before starting CPR, but he held up after the first compression as blood came up through Dean's mouth.

"Where's the blood coming from?" Sam asked his focus not on watching out for any impending danger.

Ignoring the blood, John continued on with the CPR, answering his son's question as he went. "He must have punctured something earlier…Dammit Dean, I thought I told you not to move."

A few minutes and no change prompted Sam to query his father, hoping for some change he had not seen, "Dad?"

"Come on, breath." John shouted at his son, tears threatening in his eyes, "We'll get you to the hospital and you'll be chatting up the nurses in no time."

"Dad" This time a statement as Sam's stomach started rise and the room started to spin.

"Not again…"John whispered, not sure where the thought had come from.

"Dad, I don't feel so well." The pain from his injury and the shock from the scene in front of him conspired to make the room spin before him and he slumped the rest of the way to the floor unconscious.

"Sam?" John looked up from his now pointless task, unsure what to do. This was a living nightmare.

"Sam!" John moved towards his youngest not sure what else to do, but he never made his destination as the hallway dissolved into nothing only to reappear…

…TBC