Once again I would like to thank all of you out there who have stuck by me throughout this story so far. I can't believe how many people have story alerted this and thank you so much to all those who have bothered to review, they always makes my day and I shall love you forever This story is becoming one of my personal favourites of mine. Anyway I think that should be enough from me. Here is chapter Four, shorter than normal but hopefully still as good (reviews will be really appreciated) I won't keep you waiting any longer.

"Don't worry honey everything will be alright. Just stay with me please, can you do that? Can you keep your eyes open for mummy?" the women's voice sounded panicked as it was carried over to Dean's ears. A small murmur rang out as a reply, one that was too incoherent for his ears to translate.

Time was ticking. Speeding away from him as he was left frozen by his shock filled horror. He knew he had to get in there before it was too late, in fact his mind was screaming at him to do just that but his legs wouldn't obey. It took all his self control not to crumple in a heap on the floor, giving into the demon right away and ending everyone's unnecessary pain.

Why does he matter more? Why should he play this fucking game? He could simply give up and hand his soul over on a silver platter. That was the main reason for this wasn't it, this whole elaborate scheme was so a demon could get his hands upon the one soul who escaped him. Petty possession and vengeance problems. He could just let him have what he wants, no matter what happens he will be hell's bitch once again. Why put off the inevitable? Why should he allow people he loves suffer because he wasn't ready to let go of this existence?

No! This wasn't Dean Winchester's way of thinking. He doesn't give into demon's demands; he fights until the very last breath leaves his body. That had been the case until he had been broken by Alistair's hands, till he had been reduced to a shadow of his former self. A sad pathetic version who was frightened of his own shadow but doesn't allow anyone to see this fear, someone who would stand outside a barn while people he loves is facing certain death if he doesn't do something fast.

No longer will he be that person. Never again! If he was going to hell then he was going the way a Winchester should and that didn't involve giving up.

Dean tore his eyes away from the pair briefly. He glanced down at his watch. Shit...he had wasted thirty minutes through his lack of focus. Why did he choose now to become thoughtful with a short attention span? There he goes again. This wasn't right; he would never let his thoughts go astray during a hunt.

He drew in a deep breath and literally shook himself out of his thoughts. He couldn't afford anymore distractions so he turned back to the door, his hand remained poised upon the wood. With one more inhale of breath he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

His eyes darted around the barn, wanting to be ready for anything and everything that could be thrown his way. Apart from the two people suspended from chains above him, it appeared to be an average working barn. Everything was just too 'normal.' Dean Winchester doesn't deal in normal; normal doesn't deal well with Dean Winchester.

An unsettling feeling washed over him causing a shiver to run through his spine. He froze where he was, his gun held out in front of him ready for quick use. His eyes continued to survey his surroundings. That feeling remained. That one feeling Dean had come to know well with all his years of being a hunter. The sensation of being watched.

"Please honey, please stay with me," a pleading voice from above caught Dean's attention. His eyes moved up towards the pair above his head but he kept watch out of his peripheral as the feeling didn't seem to be leaving him anytime soon.

The women appeared to be on the verge of hysteria; at the moment it seemed she only had eyes for her son. She was oblivious to anything else around her which included Dean.

"Lisa!" he called out, his own voice sounded hoarse. This was due to the burning sensation that had begun to spread throughout his body. Stupid poison induced fever.

Lisa's attention snapped down towards his voice. Her eyes widened through what appeared to be relief, fear and possibly even a hint of happiness. A small smile graced her lips but tears streamed out of her eyes. Seeing her like this broke his heart.

"Thank god. Dean. I don't know what happened, Ben and I were driving home then...everything went black. Next thing I know I woke up to hear Ben screaming beside me and we both were chained to the wall," Lisa's speech was fast and breathy.

"Wait. The wall?" Dean questioned a frown crossed his face.

"Yeah. Every couple of minutes the chains are shortened dragging us up in the process. Dean it's Ben. He is barely consciousness, I don't know what's wrong with him," the women's distress overcome her words.

Dean's eyes flickered over towards the second figure whose head rolled onto his left shoulder. His mouth moved through what the hunter believed to be silent moans of pain while his eyes were half mast. The boy was fighting a loosing battle with his consciousness; he needed medical help and fast...

"Tick tock Deano, time is rolling away from you" the words echoed inside his head. His head pounded through the intensity of the voice which sent a ripple of pain throughout his chest. Dean cried out in agony, buckling over at the waist he wrapped his left hand around his chest trying to keep the contents from spilling out. It felt like ten knives were shredding him apart from the inside out and it was taking all his self control not to fall into a pathetic heap of unconsciousness.

He could vaguely hear Lisa's soft shouts of concern but this was soon drowned out once again by the intruder within his own sanctuary of his head.

"Not looking so good there sport. I think your pretty women should join in the fun as well" with those words the pain in his head increased as a trio of declarations of pains bounced off the barn walls. Dean panted heavily forcing his eyes upwards.

"Shit," the soft curse rolled off of Dean's tongue. The chains suspending Lisa and Ben tightened once more, sending them even closer to the ceiling, and cutting off more circulation around their body. It was obvious that Ben's childlike form wouldn't be able to take much longer.

This new revelation sent a bout of adrenaline around the hunter's body which in turn brought a heart wrenching bout of agony in his bones and muscles. He drew in ragged breaths and straightened his body. A sense of nausea rushed over him threatening to overwhelm him at any moment.

Suck it up Winchester that one command rattled through his head. That one order mimicked perfectly in his father's voice, blocked out the demon's insistent taunts. His head began to ease up as the pain lessened. An order had been given and Dean was always told that he was the perfect soldier.

Immediately his eyes darted around the barn, when he spotted the much desired object he half sprinted over towards it. His chest yelled at him with pure rage, every movement he made seemed to make it angrier. But he had to ignore it, he had a job to do, he had people to save.

Upon reaching the crank, he pocketed his gun, placed his hands upon the item and increased in his panting. It was getting harder to get breath into his body with his heart pounding increasing in pace. Counting down the time he had left, counting down the time everyone he loves has left. He can't afford to waste it.

With as much pressure as he could muster he began to swivel the crank. The sound of chains rattling took over reign from the previous screams, by now both Lisa and Ben were silent. This brought a stronger sense of determination within Dean. He increased his pace.

No sooner than he had managed to bring the pair halfway to the ground the chains jammed for no apparent reasons. Before Dean had time to react something came in contact with his chest, sending him hurtling into the wall opposite.

His back made contact with the wall, sending a tidal wave of agony through his muscles. His chest tightened restricting his airway even more. A groan escaped while he straightened himself out. His eyes surveyed his previous position. There was no one there. What the hell?

"Dean," Lisa's plea of concern reached his ears but he chooses to ignore it. His eyes remained fixated upon the crank and the surroundings around it.

All of a sudden a metal pipe flew over towards Dean, who sidestepped quickly to avoid impact. The pipe played its song as it crashed into the wall behind him. Lucky that he had such quick reflexes.

Another object was sent hurtling towards the young hunter which he avoided narrowly. Now he was pretty sure what he was dealing with and here he was thinking before that it was too easy. He knew something was off but right now he had only realised what had caused this wave of thought. A fucking poltergeist. Great joy.

The horrific sound of someone gasping for air sounded out above him but what made it worse was that it was in stereo. He could hear the sound of the chains tightening their grip upon their victims getting ready for the kill. Dean blocked this noise as much as he could, it was proving almost impossible. His head and heart were in two different places when he needed them to work together most.

One minute warning kiddo the voice rang in his head. Shit...shit...Shit. There was no way he can free the pair in time and dispatch a poltergeist, which was concealing itself from him.

He dodged one more object by forward rolling onto the floor; there he remained kneeling for the moment. An idea struck him as his time reached thirty seconds. Nothing like leaving it to the last minute.

A blade was sent hurtling past his face, catching him slightly on his left cheek. He winched while he rummaged in his duffel, his hands moving fast they were almost a blur. His fingers locked together onto the desired object, how glad he was right now that he had used his common sense.

Dean pulled out the gun full of rock salt from the bag. There was one shot in it. He had once chance and one chance only and he had to wait for the right moment.

From his position on the floor he aimed his gun roughly to where he suspected the poltergeist to be hiding. His eyes narrowed and fixated upon that one spot.

"Come on," he muttered under his breath. Above him the sounds of troubled breaths called out to him in their desperation. His eyes never strayed from their current location, all his focus was drawn towards that one spot.

You're not going to make it boy. Ten second count down...

10...

Dean's heart raced in his chest. The crank began to slowly move by itself, all he needed was one more definite sign...

9...

The breaths from above became even more panicked. Air wasn't entering their lungs at the pace their body required.

8...

7...

6...

5...

4...

The shot rang out through the barn the moment Dean had seen the glimpse of metal and the reflection within it. His one bullet used up. His green eyes watched as the rock salt made contact with the spirit. The blade in its hand shrieked as it made contact with the floor.

In one moment the poltergeist showed its true form before shattering into a million pieces. In that same moment Dean Winchester dropped his gun and sprinted over to the crank. All the while the countdown continued in his head.

3...

His hands gripped onto the crank tight, his knuckles turned white in the process.

2...

The last of his adrenaline was applied into his hands, forcing them to work faster. He panted heavily with every movement made, sweat poured down his brow, stinging as it mix with his blood in the open cut across his cheek.

1...

The chains clattered against the floor, loosening their grip in defeat in the very last second of their apparent victory.

Lisa pulled her son close to her; she leaned down and checked his vitals. His pulse was slow, his brow was moist and his breath was ragged. He needs medical help and fast.

Dean staggered over towards the pair. His vision blurring slightly as he kneeled down beside them, well when I say kneeled I mean his knees gave way underneath him. His chest still ached with a dull pain whenever he breathed. None of that mattered. He had saved the first of the prisoners. One nil to him.

"How is he?" he asked. Lisa moved her concerned eyes from her son up to her saviour. They seemed to widen as she really noticed his appearance for the first time this day. She gulped; tears were still fresh within her eyes.

"He's breathing but not conscious. I need to get him to a doctor as soon as I can, I don't know what's wrong with him, there seems to be a fever raging through his body. He's sweating up a storm and his breaths seemed forced," she told him. Tears rolled out of her eyes. Dean brought her close into his chest, attempting to administer some form of comfort to the woman.

His eyes moved down towards the young boy. Man he looked like shit.

After a while Lisa broke free of his grasp and connected her eyes to his. Concern rippled across her face and this time he knew it wasn't for her son.

"It looks like you're suffering from a fever as well Dean. Let me get you boys home so I can nurse you to health," Dean's eyes snapped back down to the boy.

His heart hammered in his chest. As well? No...No...No...No.

His green eyes inspected over the little boys neck, sure enough his neck mirrored Dean's. No fucking way!

Alistair cackled, in his right hand he held the syringe while he sat on the roof of the barn. Beside him the poltergeist reflected his laughter.

"One all Winchester,"...

TBC