Again usual disclaimers apply and all mistakes are very much of my own making, including the violence and the fruity language. Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up and posted but torn ligaments are such a bitch to type with! Once again thanks for such positive reviews and I will get back to you all to say my thanks were possible. Rozzy.

Becoming too visible

Chapter 7: Think I might have really pissed him off.

Leading up to just how that pesky fire took hold of the building as Bobby drove up…..

Adrian Murdoch sucked in an angry intake of air at seeing only the one Winchester slide silently into the boiler room.

A frisson of anger burned inside as he watched the dark blond haired hunter assess the room and its fixtures with a clinical eye and he pressed further back into the shadows not wanting to make his move till the younger brother turned up.

When after a few moments Sam was a no show he ground his teeth in annoyance. It looked like Dean was intending on playing hero all on his lonesome. Stupid Winchesters never did know how to play the game as expected he thought bitterly.

Murdoch cradled the gun in his hand and itched to put a bullet in the gut of the man standing so cocksure in the doorway. But it was the absence of the younger brother that kept that urge in check. After everything that had gone wrong on this job he was determined the youngest Winchester was not going to slip through his fingers.

Thinking on the boy his top lip twitched. If it had been his kith and kin he would taken him out straight away. No question. No hesitation. None of this pathetic pussyfooting around to see what happened next. A bullet between the eyes was what was needed to rid the world of the psychic spawned freak

Watching from his hidden viewpoint he waited patiently for Dean to reach the bones and he couldn't keep back a small hiss of satisfaction when he stooped down to inspect the altar.

Dean grunted his satisfaction at seeing the bones. Saunders was as good as gone he told himself, and his brother was going to be all the safer for it. As he bent over the bleached remains his nose scrunched up as the familiar tang of fresh lighter fuel wafted up and he cocked an eyebrow in surprise.

The warning bells went off in his head that something wasn't quite right and he stood up in a rush. It was nanosecond too late as Murdoch for such a large man moved swiftly out of the shadows. Swinging in a tight arc he connected the butt of his gun against the back of Dean's head.

It was a vicious smack that left Dean stunned and he crumpled to ground his smashing his torch on the concrete.

Groaning Dean tried to rise but the sharp kick to his side rolled him on to his back and he found himself staring up at the man he thought he had had left trussed up as ghost bait only a little while ago.

Murdoch bent over him, gun aimed at his head. "Ain't so bloody cocky now are we Winchester?"

Following through with another well aimed kick to his stomach Murdoch grinned maliciously as Dean curled his body into a protective ball still too stunned to fight back.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

With the room wrapped in an unsettling silence Beryl twitched nervously hardly daring to believe that the monster had gone away. Her fingers dug deep into Sam's shoulder for reassurance and he roused enough to give out a small grunt at the touch.

Looking expectantly down at Sam she saw him squinting up at her with half closed eyes but with a soft smirk on his flushed face, "Think I might have really pissed him off."

Beryl took in a long steadying breath, not knowing whether she wanted to laugh, cry or just scream her relief. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

When he gave a small shrug and started to struggle up again to a sitting position Sam was grateful when Beryl's hands caught at his shoulders to steady him. When the room righted itself and his vision settled he was left with a spiking pain in his skull that just wouldn't quit.

Hissing through the discomfort he gingerly touched his head again and his fingers came away sticky, but he was thankful that the wound was no longer freely bleeding. Wiping his bloodied finger tips down his shirt he noticed the wrap of a foreign shirt around his middle and looked confusedly over at Beryl.

Patting his knee she leant in and adjusted the wrap gently pulling it further up his chest, "Your brother tried to sort you out best he could."

"Oh," he whispered in return shivering slightly despite the heat radiating off him and found himself asking, "You doing okay?"

"No," answered Beryl honestly her chin wobbling. She felt utterly drained as in all her thirty-three years she had never witnessed such horrors that tonight had shown her, "I'm damn scared."

"S'alright, you'll be okay." Sam's quietly insisted but couldn't keep back a grimace as the spike in his head threatened to spilt his skull into two distinct halves.

Beryl head dipped down in defeat. "No it won't be okay. Not ever. That thing killed my husband. It wants to kill us too."

Swallowing back the burn of bile rising up his throat Sam managed to reach his long fingers out to draw her chin up so that her gaze met his, "For your little girl's sake I promise you will get out of here."

There was a few seconds of silence between them but then Beryl teary eyed nodded her head and drew the cuff of her sleeve across her runny nose. The young man in front of her seemed too sincere not to want to believe in him. She had to trust that he would get her out.

Sam grinned back her, dimples on full display, secretly relieved he had managed to string more than a few coherent words together since coming back around.

"Here, you best take this," whispered Beryl shoving the gun eagerly back into Sam's much larger hand. "I think I'm more likely to shoot myself in the foot than hit that thing out there."

"Okay," Sam smiled wanly back at her thinking he'd be lucky to hit an elephant at ten yards never mind a super slippery ghost, especially with the mother of all concussions still trying to win dominance with his scrambled brains.

Eyes flitting round the room he looked back over at Beryl and his words came out in a long drawl, "So… my brother…. where'd he go?

"He said that he had to 'toast the scumbags bones' and then he'd come back", she couldn't keep back a nervous giggle as the absurdity of it all hit home her eyes daring to lock with his, "This is just insane…burning a ghost's bones."

"Yeah. Ghosts and things that go bump in the night. Insane. Gotcha."

Shifting slightly on the floor trying to beat down the waves of pain in his side and head Sam struggled to get his thought processes back on some coherent path. "How long ago did my brother leave?"

"About twenty minutes I think." Beryl looked at him eyes bright with expectation again, "He said he was coming back"

"Dean will. When he gets the job done,"

Sam visibly winced at the pull on his side as he levered his tall frame back onto his feet, good hand braced against a wall to stop him from falling.

Tight little breaths escaped as he tried to ignore how the room spun or how the throbbing intensified in his head on standing. Finally as he steadied his face set in grim determination and he risked the two long strides over to the door.

Beryl jumped up in alarm frightened that he was about to leave her too, "No, no, Sam you have to stay in here. Your brother said not to do anything foolish."

Sam snorted his disbelief shaking his head despite the pain it brought, "Is that what he said? This whole freaking day has been one long catalogue of foolish mistakes."

"But it's not safe to go out there. Please!" gasped out Beryl, pulling him back urgently away from the door.

He twisted his tall frame to tower over here, his eyes blinking away the disorientation at the movement. "I just can't sit on my butt and do nothing. Dean might need my help."

"No. He has that necklace thing to keep him safe. He showed it to me…"

Sam's face twitched at the memory. Of his brother's harsh words earlier laced with enough anger behind them to let him know he never needed his help.

Reluctantly Sam nodded his defeat, "Yeah…he doesn't need me to make things worse. Got the message loud and clear."

Beryl sighed her relief as Sam leant back against the wall and slid slowly down on to the floor. Settling herself down next to him she nudged him gently with her shoulder, "How long do you think he'll be?"

"It's a big building but at least he doesn't have me to slow him down. Best make yourself comfortable."

Taking that as her cue Beryl laid her head on his shoulder and despite the heat burning off him she able to draw fresh comfort from the contact. Her voice came out muffled as she rambled, "This doesn't seem real. But with you and your brother is just seems so matter of fact…. as if you do this every day."

Sam shrugged fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to ward of another bout of discomfort and whispered out an admission, "Its what we were raised to do."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Murdoch aimed another kick at the body on the floor, a smile of satisfaction on his face as the man gave a small exhale of pain, curling away from the kick. "What Deannie baby? Don't like when the shoe is on the other foot?"

Dean gritted his teeth as the kick jarred the injuries to his ribs further and he struggled to suck in enough breath to stay conscious. Grimly he managed to twist his head around to look up at the larger man and wondered why he hadn't killed the retard earlier.

Sammy he reasoned was proving too much of a conscience for him and he barked out a short bitter laugh of self disgust, baring blood stained teeth up at Murdoch.

Murdoch on seeing the bloodied grin aimed his way snapped out angrily, "You'll not be so fucking happy after I'm through with that little shit you call a brother."

"Go fuck yourself," spat out Dean, silently rattled by the man's threats to his brother. "You stay the hell away from Sam."

Not liking the answer or the defiant look in Dean's eyes Murdoch swore and aimed another kick at Dean as his hatred took over. "I'll have him begging for his life before I blow his brains out of the back of his head."

"You have to find him first dumb ass," hissed back Dean goading the man, knowing how easy it was for Murdoch to get rattled.

Murdoch lost control the moment he let his temper take over. Hating the look of contempt directed his way he viciously tried to stomp on Dean's head but never made contact as two strong hands grabbed up at the descending foot.

Using all his upper body strength Dean wrenched the booted foot around, a dark grin on his face as he heard the crack as the anklebone snapped.

Murdoch howled out his shock as white-hot pain tore through him. Belatedly he tried to shoot Dean but his other leg was yanked from under him and as he fell backwards the bullets he fired struck the ceiling instead.

As his head made contact with the concrete floor there was a sickening thump and he lost his grip on the gun letting it fell to his side. Groggily he tried to pick it up again but an enraged Dean batted it away.

Straddling the now defenceless hunter Dean anger driven threw the first punch to his face.

The powerful blow broke Murdoch's nose afresh and blood spurted out in a dark warming rush. Choking as a slick of mucous and blood fell down his throat he feebly tried to raise his hands to protect himself but Dean smacked them away and punched him again with even greater force breaking his jaw for the second time in his life.

Snarling his fury Dean locked eyes with the terrified hunter, "I warned you that Sam was off limits but you were just too stupid to listen."

Dean kept the punches coming even when Murdoch's head limply rolled with each strike and it was only the nag of his freshly bruising knuckles that made him pause to see the bloody mess he had made of the man's shattered face.

As he eyed the crimson stain on his knuckles he felt no regret for the damage he had done. The bastard had wanted to hurt his brother. His baby brother. Who the hell did he think he was to threaten that?

Drawing away from the broken hunter Dean snatched up the gun off the floor and cocked the trigger.

At the sound of the hammer being draw Murdoch managed to look up through watery eyes and despite his busted jaw managed to stutter out, "Y'gonna ice me just like dat? cold blood?"

"Yep."

Gulping back a sob as the cold muzzle pressed into his chest wall directly over his heart Murdoch knew what defeat felt like and he wasn't too proud to beg. "Gah Dean… please."

"Please the fuck what? You were planning to do this to my brother. Right?"

Spluttering as the blood continued to trickle down his throat Murdoch shook his head, "Ya know why. Ya daddy knew what had to be done."

Dean saw red and all the months of having to keep his father's last words inside him spilled out in a physical rush and he smashed the gun into Murdoch's face, "Don't you dare say that you bastard. Don't you fucking dare."

Crying out his alarm Murdoch tried to protect his face from further damage and he stretched out his hands in front of him trying to placate the enraged man, "No please I've got it. Sam's off limits…."

Swinging viciously again the gun smacked Murdoch on the side of the head and Dean grunted out, "You bet the fuck he is."

His words fell on deaf ears as Murdoch lay unconscious now under him. Disgust rippled over Dean still wanting to killing the man where he lay, but it would have been too quick, to clean a death for the bastard he reasoned.

Drawing himself upright Dean remembered the kicks he had taken earlier and aimed his own between the man's legs and spat out viciously, "Your so gonna be drinking and pissing through a straw both ends you little shit for a long time - if you live through the night."

Ignoring the reminders of his own bruised ribs he turned his attention back to what had drawn him to the room in the first place. The bleached bones looked so inconsequential, so tiny and fragile, that it was hard to believe they belonged to that evil sonofabitch that had hurt his brother and killed two others tonight.

As he approached the crude altar the brittle remains glistened up at him. Coated by a liberal sprinkling of salt and lighter fluid courtesy of the man lying semi dead at his feet he gave a tired grin of thanks. All that was needed now was him to add one small flame to the mix and the whole disastrous day would draw to an end.

Casting a careful eye over the still silent man on the ground he reached into his pocket drawing out a disposable lighter. Clicking on the flame he watched for a second as it grew bright and then dropped the lighter onto the bones.

Stepping back a few paces Dean smiled in relief as the whoosh of flames took hold, eating away hungrily at the meagre offerings. Ridding them all of the threat of the evil little bastard Saunders once and for all he hoped.

The fire quickly ate through to the wooden crate quickly finding the stashed backpack inside it. Eating through the fabric in seconds the flames made contact with the second can of lighter fluid and an almighty hiss erupted and the fire sizzled in warning.

With a new explosive fuel source the fire erupted in a dangerous display of power licking the paint off the ceiling and slithering outwards at a frightening rate.

"Whoa, so not what I was expecting." whistled Dean worriedly stepping away from the growing inferno. Any thought of controlling it had evaporated the moment the flames leap-frogged around the room igniting small pockets of inflammable materials that it touched.

As Dean backed away from the increasing firestorm a scream shocking to his ears made him suddenly freeze. Murdoch had regained consciousness and was struggling to crawl away from the fire, his broken ankle hampering his efforts.

Through the haze of the fire Dean could see him desperately trying to bat away the flames flickering up his legs.

For a shared heartbeat the two hunters eyes met and the hatred Dean felt for the man was forgotten as he watched the man face his fate.

Murdoch looked at him beseechingly, "Please."

Dean swallowed dryly knowing what was being asked of him. He had killed a lot of things in his life but he had always hoped to hesitate when it came to killing a man. Even a man like Murdoch.

Murdoch's previous pleas to stay alive were at odds with the terrible death he now faced. Grey eyes were begging Dean to put an end to it. Before the flames consumed him totally.

Even if had the inclination to save him Dean would have been unable to get past the barrier of flames that bridged the gap between them. Nodding his understanding of what needed to be done he locked eyes with the desperate hunter for the last time and then fired.

The bullet tore through the flames unaltered and Murdoch's head snapped back as the projectile hit true. Watching the man slump back on the ground Dean felt nothing other than it was a quicker death than the man deserved.

The fire did not remain still growing ever more dangerous and Dean had to shield his face from the intense heat. Then his eyes widened in horror on noticing where the fire had travelled to, "Oh you little motherfucker… "

Galvanised into action he raced out of the grim chamber and started in a mad sprint down the long corridor. He barged through the first fire door and raced on to the next with out pause, desperate to put some space between himself and the old oil-fired boiler readying to go bang.

When it went did finally detonate he felt every bone in his body vibrate as he was flung off his feet. Shaking his head a few seconds later he was left wondering just how many lives he had used up to escape the fallout of the boiler going supernova relatively unscathed. Battered and bruised oh yeah but thankfully still very much alive.

'Lucky son of a gun,' he told himself as he wiped the soot and dust off his face and hauled himself up again.

Curious he looked back down the semi-collapsed corridor glimpsing a sickly orange haze and sucked in breath. He took off again, back to the stairs as he had to get back to his brother before the whole freaking building burnt down.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Tiredly Sam wiped his sleeve over his face to mop up the dapple of perspiration on his skin and couldn't hold back a deep sigh of resignation. Yet again he was left on the sidelines waiting for his brother to finish off the job.

What must his brother be thinking of him right now? Perhaps at what useless deadweight he had become? Resting his head against the cool wall he realised that nothing he did had gone right these past few months. Nothing.

As to mock his self-indulgent moment a loud bang came up through the floor shaking loose a heavy blanket of cloying dust and heavy particles into the air. Coughing through the grey haze his mind screamed a warning. The noise was too loud, too combustive to be just a simple burning of bones.

Beryl had shot up straight by his side, eyes saucer wide and a whimper of fear in her throat. "My god what was that?"

Staggering back up he had no answer to give her and instead he pointed the gun at the door and waited. He could hear the hitched breathing behind him of the frightened woman but he kept his eyes firmly locked on the door.

With a sick feeling in his stomach he kept his vigil by the salted doorframe guessing all the while that this night had just slipped from just bad to fucked up insane.

It was the acrid smell drifting from under the door that sent his senses screaming an alert. "Oh shit," he muttered in disbelief.

Would Casper be that crazy to set the place ablaze? Toasting everything including his precious bones in the process. It didn't make sense. None of this whacked out day did.

As if in answer Saunders thin reedy voice teased outside the door, "Damn stupid brother of yours Samuel is really starting to annoy me. You know that, right?"

"Get in line you old goat. You're not the first he's pissed off and you are no way near the top of the list, believe me. Besides I'm guessing this is just his warm up act before he drags your sorry ass back to hell."

"Cocky little show off ain't yer at times? So sure of yer brother and his pyromaniac tendencies but you won't be so lippy when the whole building burns down with you in it."

"Go to hell you freak," spat back Sam trying to disguise his fear as the smell of smoke intensified.

Saunders chuckled enjoying Sam's feistiness, "All I'm saying sonny is that your brother deserves a good spanking for trying to get rid of me like that. A really big whooping that he'll never forget."

"You can't touch him you stupid bastard," growled back Sam and for a few heartbeats it felt like the truth.

Saunders leant against the door and whispered chillingly, "But I can you."

Sam swallowed as the seconds ticked by and there were no further taunts from Saunders. Now the the doubts started to nag away at him. An amulet no matter how powerful wasn't going to protect his brother against natural dangers. That explosions had been too powerful and it might have left his brother hurt, or worse.

Struggling to keep his panic under control he knew he needed answers that he wouldn't find stuck inside this protective cocoon his brother had left him in.

Any misgivings on what to do next evaporated the moment he saw the tendrils of smoke curl under the crack in the door and he grabbed in a rush the door handle, thankful that it was still cool to the touch.

"No," whimpered Beryl as she saw Sam's intention to leave the room. "We can't go out there. "

Sam ignored her and pulled the door open his nostrils flaring as a blanket of thin grey smoke swirled in around his feet. Gun held steady he waited for the ghost to appear but Saunders was gone and his fear for his brother intensified.

Sticking his head out further Sam looked around and his mouth went dry as centre of the floor was pulsating as flames licked up through the semi constructed elevator shaft.

Eyes widening in horror he could see that the fire was taking a firm hold, fed with enough flammable materials on every floor it touched to be uncontrollable.

Purposely Sam grabbed at Beryl's hand, "Come on, we can't stay here. The whole place is going to go up like a tinderbox. I have to get you out now."

o0o0o0o0o0o

The claw hammer felt good in his cold thin fingers, the handle snug in the palm of his withered hand. Nice and heavy it would be heavenly to sink the head into something solid. Something warm. Something squishy.

"Samuel," he whispered in the dark as he searched out his unique heartbeat above the others. "You're so right about your brother and that pisses me off no end believe me. Still you I can touch. I can play with just a little bit longer."

o0o0o0o0o0o

Bobby eyed the unnatural light flitting through the boarded windows and sucked in a terrified breath before swinging hard with the axe. As the metal blade bit into the heavy oak door he heard it start to splinter and he grunted his satisfaction.

Hitting the wood again he called out for the boys but there was no response except for the wood starting to break apart under his attack.

A few more strikes and hopefully the door would break open.

As the axe sunk through the wood again Bobby growled under his breath, wondering just how that slime ball Anderson could leave the boys in a burning building like this. When he got his hands around his worthless neck he wouldn't trust himself not to strangle the bastard.

With one final hefty strike the door's locked shattered and he was able to push it open only to allow thick cloying smoke to pour out.

Using a handkerchief over his mouth and nose to filter out the some of the acrid smoke he dared to enter the smouldering building desperately trying to pick out any signs of the brothers in the semi darkness.

Bobby gave a small prayer of thanks as a familiar figure staggered into view by and he called out, "Dean!"

His head lift up in recognition before he swayed dangerously but Dean stubbornly remained on his feet.

Ignoring the shower of smouldering artefacts raining down from the ceiling Bobby dashed over to Dean wondering why his baby brother wasn't with him. "Where's the hell is Sammy?"

Dean his eyes streaming from the smoke pointed a finger to a small alcove to the west of the open floor space managing to gasp out, "In there."

Bobby never a man of unnecessary words nodded his understanding and raced towards the door. The door was ajar and he could clearly see that room beyond was empty of the youngest Winchester. "He's not here."

"What?" cried out Dean pushing past Bobby his eyes wide in disbelief. Both his brother and the woman were gone. "Oh this is just freaking unbelievable."

Farnborough in all its terror ate away at him again but he refused to think the worse. His sixteen year old brother had proved then that he was hard Winchester to kill and no way was this place going to do what Farnborough couldn't manage. His brother had to be okay.

Maybe he hoped, just maybe, his brother had already made it safely out of the building, and was no doubt being mothered by that woman that seemed so attached to him.

With this hope in mind he didn't try to resist Bobby's firm grip around his waist as he was dragged away back towards the entrance.

In the time it had taken Bobby to get back to the door he had busted through the fire had taken a firmer more destructive hold. Crackling flames were now freely racing through each floor of the building threatening to bring the whole building down on their heads.

As they stumbled out to welcoming fresh air Bobby dared to look back into the inferno praying that Sam had made it out of there by some other escape. There was no chance in hell of them going back in there now to save anyone.

Dean broke free of Bobby's his eyes darting around the grounds for signs of his brother and when there was none the cosy thoughts of him being outside and being gently nursed vanished abruptly.

"Sammy," he hollered out desperately, "Sam…"

Something snapped inside of him when his brother didn't answer and the fears that he had tried to squash before doubled. His brother might still be inside that hellhole and he had left him behind, "Oh shit…."

As he readied to run back into the building Bobby made a grab at him spinning him around by his shoulders. "No boy you can't go back in there. It'd be suicide."

Dean shoved Bobby not liking his honest words and the older man staggered back a step. Grunting his surprise he was still quick witted enough to tackle Dean again as he attempted to race back into the burning building. "No - can't you see it's too late."

As the two struggled on the ground a scream shrill and terror borne stilled them both.

It was clearly a woman's scream and Dean shook himself free of Bobby and jumped back to his feet. "Beryl?" he dared to holler out.

There was another scream and Bobby looked at Dean. "Came from the back of the building."

As one they started to sprint round the brick structure and headed for the back of the old building. Dean hollered out for Beryl again and as he skidded round the final corner he saw her standing underneath a large open window some six foot off the ground looking anxiously up at it.

Her head snapped round, eyes wide with fear before she heard Dean and spun around to meet him, "Please help him. It's got him."

Dean shook his in confusion, "Sammy? Just what the hell has got him?"

"The ghost."

"This can't be happening," gasped out Dean, "I burnt the freaking bones."

o0o0o0o0o0o

Sam had only just managed to swing Beryl out of the window so that she only had a few feet to drop to the ground below before a familiar presence decided to visit him again.

The freezing drop in temperature was enough of a clue for him to spin around and fire blindly only managing to clip the side of the ghost before he felt himself being yanked backwards.

Backwards and away from the window his only means of escape.

Saunders delight couldn't be contained as he looked down at the bloodied figure, "Like I said I ain't done playing with you yet. Not before the fire eats you up anyways."

Beryl's screaming out his name galvanised Sam into action and he kicked out to make solid contact with the ghost who fell back in surprise.

Hastily Sam rummaged through his pockets for some fresh ammunition but came away empty. With no means to keep the ghost at bay he scuttled backwards desperate to get to the open window before Saunders could touch him again.

The air was becoming too thick to breathe and the destruction of wood and mortar crumbling under the onslaught of the fire at the front of the house was a warning that he was running out of time. Fast.

Hauling himself back on his feet he was only a few yards from freedom but the ghost just wouldn't play nicely and he felt himself being yanked away from the window.

Falling onto his back he blinked dazily up to see Saunders smiling down at him, "Sam my boy you ready to scream prettily for me?"

Sam shook his head tears forming as the smoke stung his eyes. "Screw you."

"Oh come on boy let me end it quickly for you. A good whack to the skull or three. Smash those lovely brains out of that beautiful head of yours. Won't hurt hardly at all…."

Sam got cautiously back to his feet then stilled at seeing something glint in the monster's hand. The heat blistered at his back and he started to hack out a dry cough as the smoke clogged his lung. "You bastard, why don't you just go back to hell?"

"Not until I can take you with me." Saunders cocked his head sidewise at Sam noting how the gun was dangling ineffectively in the tall boy's hand and laughed happily. No more of that nasty salt to sting at him he guessed.

Sam felt the air freeze in front him as the spirit rushed at him and almost sighed his appreciation as the touch was a comforting contrast to the heat of the flames at his back.

In the blink of an eye Saunders was standing on tippy toes before Sam, his eyes bright with the promise of more pain to come. "Gotcha"

Sam knew what was to come and raised his arm defensively as the hammer swung at his head. Trying to stumble away from its touch he was not fast enough to stop the claw hammer tear into his cast.

Sam couldn't stop a scream of agony from escaping as the shock travelled up his damaged arm, vibrating around the metal pins and shattered bone.

"You goddam bitch," he gasped out blinking back his tears of pain and outrage and desperately spun away, the turn enough to angle his body towards the open window.

Saunders hissed his alarm at seeing his prey about to escape and swung viciously once more. Preferring to keep his skull intact more so than his arm Sam allowed it once again to absorb the shattering blow.

As the hammer struck with unnatural force just below the elbow Sam gasped back another cry as the cast started to spilt apart. The only things keeping it adhered to his shattered arm were the nails pinned through it.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Dean heard Sam before he saw him. His pain filled voice coming from the open window was a welcome sound to his ears as it meant he was still alive. Glancing over the lip of the windowsill he could just make out his hunched over form in the smoke filled room before he was yanked from view by invisible hands.

"Get away from my brother you bastard," growled out Dean in warning as he hauled himself up into open window frame and jumped down on to the smouldering floor.

Saunders stood over his brother hammer raised for a deadly blow and his eyes darkened in fury at seeing Dean again, "He's mine."

"Like hell he is,'" growled out a fresh voice and Bobby landed besides Dean eyeing the ghost with fury as he let loose a spray of rock salt as he fired his shotgun.

"Its not fair, he's mine," Saunders whined as he slinked back into the shadows allowing Sam to roll away coughing pitifully as the smoke tore at his lungs.

Dean hurried to his brother's side and hastily dragged him to his feet checking for further damage. As he glanced over at the ghost he wondered out loud, "Why the hell isn't that psycho dust? I burnt his bones."

Sam gripped his arm for support and wheezed out between desperate attempts to breathe, "Amulet. Must be bound to that…not the bones."

Smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand for not thinking of it sooner Dean pulled the necklace from out of his jean pocket. Growling his disgust he threw it to the floor and ground it beneath his boot heal.

Saunders eyes popped out in fear as the amulet shattered and the earthly link that kept him bound vanished. Now he'd never get to see his lovely Sam die either by his hand or the glorious fire.

A loud wail of disappointment rose up from his throat as he felt his body crumbling away just like the amulet had done. "Samuel," he called out longingly his grey fingers reaching out to him, still desperately trying to make contact with his prize.

Dean stood in protective stance in front of his brother fired his final round at the spirit. He huffed out a loud sigh of relief when the spirit shattered into a billion particles of black dust that was quickly absorbed into the inky darkness pouring out in a river of smoke from the dying house.

Grabbing his brother by the waist Dean had no time for words as chunks of flaming material spat out of the wall and from the ceiling. It really was time to cut and run and none to gently he hauled him over to the window with Bobby close at their heals.

"Here you best jump down first and I'll lower him to you," commanded Bobby as he caught sight of the damage to Sam for the first time, wondering just how on earth he was still on his feet, never mind going one to one with some super charged poltergeist.

Beryl standing a few yards back raced back to offer help as Dean jumped down and waited for his brother to follow.

Not realising just how heavy the tall boy was Bobby almost lost his grip as he lowered Sam over the edge of the window sill, any strength that had kept him on his feet rapidly fading as his head lolled dangerously onto his chest. "Come on son suck it like the good little Winchester you've been trained to be."

Sam's head jerked up at the familiar command that had dogged his childhood. "I'm trying Sir."

Bobby paled at the reference to John and shook his head at seeing the glazed and pain filled look on the boy's face. "You got him Dean?"

"Yeah," growled back Dean in gratitude as his brother was put back firmly into his care.

Sam tried to keep his body under some control but his long limbs were struggling for any sort of coordination. The moment they touched the grass below they buckled.

"Sorry," he whispered as the last of his adrenal rush faded and his spent body readied for total collapse.

Hoisting an arm around his waist Dean bit back a retort as his brother's head fell on to shoulder. On seeing Beryl rushing up to meet them he screamed out a warning, "Get back. Its not safe."

She stopped and took a few cautionary steps back her eyes reflecting the light of the burning building as the fire took full control. When the glass shattered in the windows from the intense heat she started to run to safety whilst Dean flung himself over his brother shielding him from the spray.

When the shower of glass ended Dean quickly hauled his brother back up again only to feel his weight lessen. He threw a look across his brother's chest and saw Bobby had looped an arm of support around Sam's waist. "Thanks," he whispered as they started at run to get them all out of harms way.

"When did the runt of yours get so freaking heavy? What the heck have you been feeding him on?" Bobby gasped out under the effort of guiding the barely conscious youngest Winchester to safety.

"Lucky Charms and Gummi bears," answered back Sam the effects of the smoke making his voice low and gravely.

Dean chuckled but the desperation in his eyes didn't disappear. "Boy's gonna end up with a mouthful of cavities."

Bobby just merely grunted and Dean added, "He got chewed up good and proper Bobby. He needs a hospital. I can't fix this."

Already aware of the heat leaching off Sam the older hunter nodded, "We can get him over to Barnsley Medical centre one town over. I know a couple medics and some doctors there who wont' ask too many questions if you get my drift."

As he eyed Dean he could see the guilt eating away in his eyes his face and knew there was one hell of story to get out of him before the night was through..

TBC

Okay, well I think one more chapter to go. Hope you got through this little marathon in one piece. Just like out boys sort of did!