Chapter 4:

Sam hit the wall with a thud and landed with an even bigger thud. His head swam with dizziness again. He tried to lift himself up to see what was happening around him, but it just wasn't going to happen. He had no control over his body at the moment, and he lay there dazed. He heard a crashing sound and what he assumed was his brother's moans of pain, but he just couldn't open his eyes. I'm sorry Dean, he thought.

Dean hit the bookshelf full force and high, then landed on the glass table below him. He silently thanked whoever was listening that the table was covered with a sheet or he would have been cut up even worse. His back screamed out in pain as he tried to turn over. At the force he hit that bookshelf he thought for sure his back would have snapped, but once again he thanked that someone. Blinking rapidly to stay the tears of pain out of his eyes he looked up to find Mr. Wells standing above him. Oh great, he thought, this isn't going to be good.

"Now that I have your attention, let's begin."
Without warning, well not a warning Dean would have liked, blue tinted surges of electricity came out of the ghosts hands and shot at Dean, hitting him square in the chest. And even as his back arched with pain and his jaw clenched he couldn't help but think, 'fuck, not another electrocution.' Just as he thought his body couldn't take another second the attack stopped.

Dean lay perfectly still, except for the quick rising and falling of his chest as he panted, trying to get his breath back. He couldn't help but think of where Sam was. He saw his brother hit the wall and fall hard, but he hadn't another sound from him, and he was beginning to panic. "The first part of the lesson is you admitting to your sins." Mr. Wells stated.

Dean unclenched his jaw, "Fuck off."

"Didn't your parents raise you any better boy? Have respect for your elders!" Once again the blue tinged lights found their way to Dean, causing him to scream out in pain.

Finally Sam was able to open his eyes. All of his senses came rushing back at once. And the first thing he heard was Dean's cries of pain. Fighting the dizziness and nausea he bolted off the floor. He grabbed the wall, trying to keep his balance as the crisis before him reached his eyes. "Dean!" His brother's body was arching up off the floor, his jaw clenched shut, eyes rolling back in his head. Mustering every ounce of strength he could he pushed away from the wall, only stumbling slightly, and dove for the discarded shotgun. Praying that it would work, he stood, aimed, and hit his target dead on. The fuzzy shape that was Mr. Wells spun and gave him an evil look and then disappeared, along with his blue rays of electricity. Dean's body immediately relaxed, too much, and his eyes gave one last roll before they closed completely.

"Dean!" Sam ran to him, falling to the ground beside him, still unable to keep his own balance. But that didn't matter right now. Dean needed him. He grabbed Dean's face and cupped it in his hands. "Dean, can you hear me? Dean! Wake up!" He lightly slapped his cheeks and shook him, careful not to hurt him anymore. But his brother gave no indication he could hear him. Sam tentatively, with shaking hands, reached for Dean's neck and checked for a pulse. It was there. "Dean please! I don't know how long that rock salt will work. Wake up!" He screamed, this time slapping his cheeks a little harder. "Dammit Dean, don't fucking do this right now!"

Suddenly Dean took a large gasping breath and his eyes began to flutter. "That's it Dean. Open your eyes man."

Reluctantly Dean complied. He wanted nothing more than to keep his eyes close and enjoy the peace full bliss of the darkness. But Sam's voice, that whiny little voice, just kept pulling him away. "Dude, could you back up a little." His voice came out a little raspier than he would have liked. Finally he opened his eyes fully and through fuzzy eyesight he saw Sam hovering over him. Wasn't it not that long ago Sam hated him?

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam didn't fail to notice the way his brother's body trembled beneath him. Probably a result of the shock, he thought.

"What's with me and electricity?" Dean asked, letting a small laugh escape him, then wincing as pain shot through his chest, and head, and every where else.

Sam let out a loud sigh, "Can you move, we need to get you off this glass man."

Dean nodded and though he tried, his body wouldn't obey his commands and his eyes began to flutter closed again. "Hey, no, don't close your eyes. Come on Dean, I need your help here." Sam was terrified. The last time his brother had gone up against electricity his heart failed. What had happened this time? Sam grabbed Dean by his jacket collar and pulled him up to a sitting position. "Dean, try to stand up with me."

Dean grunted and complied, though as soon as he was up his body went limp and he began to fall forward. Sam caught him and helped him slide down the wall back to a sitting position, but thankfully away from the glass. He let his brother sit there a moment catching his breath, while he did the same. Sam rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as well. God, why couldn't the room just stop spinning, he thought. Suddenly he felt a hand against the side of his face. His eyes shot open and his body went on the defensive. But he realized it was Dean's hand. His brother was looking at him with unfocused eyes.

"You're bleeding Sammy." He rubbed his fingers near the wound on the side of Sam's forehead.

Sam smiled, "It's fine Dean. I'm a little more worried about you right now."

Dean's hand fell away and landed limply in his lap. "Just give me a minute." Dean saw the way Sam was looking at him. He smirked and said, "Don't worry, the old ticker's still working."
Sam shook his head. "Not funny Dean. That was close. I don't know how long the rock salt will hold off that freak. We gotta think of something." Sam looked back to Dean and noticed his eyes were closed again. "Dean?"

"Yeah, I heard you." Dean took a deep breath and readied himself. Bracing his hands against the wall he slowly pushed himself up, "Okay, I'm ready." He reached a hand down to Sam to help him up.

Sam had to laugh. "Dean, do you even realize how much you are swaying right now?" Dean gave him a dirty look. "I can get up." Sam pushed himself up and was thankful that this time he had his balance. He was still worried about Dean. His brother had received quite an electric shock, again. But true to form Dean mustered up his strength and pretended to be fine. And just to show Sam how fine he was he walked to one of the tables and ripped a piece of sheet off. He walked back to Sam and preceded to attend to his little brother's head wound.

"Don't need to have you bleeding to death on me." He stated. Sam laughed again. No matter how much Dean said he hated chick flick moments, and mother-henning, Dean always made sure to take care of Sam.

Sam wondered if Dean even realized how much he was like what he claimed he hated.

When Dean was satisfied he had attended to Sam's head wound as much as he could he let himself lean back against the wall again and close his eyes. He needed a minute to think, to try and clear his head. But he was finding it so hard to concentrate and he just couldn't get his vision to clear. That freaking ghost had fried him pretty good. His entire body was shooting with pain. It was like his nerve endings were on fire. But he couldn't afford to slow down right now. He had to get them out of there. Why couldn't that friggin' kid of done his research better. All they needed was to burn the bones, but no, Sammy had to take a nap in the car and didn't finish his job. Dean shook his head. Dammit. He needed to keep his cool. Why was he so pissed? Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and his eyes flew open.

"You all right man?" Sam asked.

Could Sam look any more like a worried little girl, Dean thought. "Just give me a minute to clear my head Sam, " was what he said.

"I'd love to Dean, but... I hate to sound like a broken record here...but...we gotta get outta here man. Who knows when it'll be back."

Dean gave him his classic smirk, "No shit Sherlock." Sam snorted his disapproval at Dean's reply. "Well, what the hell you want me to do Sam!"
Sam took a step away from Dean and gathered their guns. He took a breath, and counted to ten, trying to remind himself to control his emotions. Not let the ghost amplify them. "First off Dean, I want you to listen to me for a minute, okay? Let me explain something." When Dean didn't interrupt, he continued. "Okay, so this Mr. Wells has a thing for punishment."

"No shit."

Sam ignored him. "But somehow he also has some kind of psychology complex. He thinks he's a shrink. He knows how to take our anger and amplify it. He said he releases anger to help free you." Sam paused for a moment, letting the revelation sink into his brother's thick head.

After a sigh Dean said, "Are we talking like Ellicott help?" Sam nodded. "Great." Dean let out a laugh.

Sam was stunned, "What about all of this do you find funny?"

"I was just thinking. I've now been electrocuted twice. And if this dude is like Ellicott, does that mean I'm gonna get to get shot with rocksalt again?"

Sam didn't know what to say. That wasn't funny. And that wasn't going to happen, again. He needed to come up with a solution fast. He wasn't sure what to do, and his brother didn't look like he was going to be up for a battle anytime soon. It was up to him. He looked at Dean again, who had once again closed his eyes. Sam was worried that shock had caused some damage. It had to have. He reached up and touched his head. It was starting to throb even worse. He was pretty sure he had a concussion. And damn, his back was starting to hurt too. He sighed, coming up with only one real solution. To get out the quickest way they could. And that, of course, would mean going back to Dean's original solution. Back upstairs, and jump. They would survive the fall with minor injuries, but he knew they weren't going to survive in the house.

"All right, come on Dean." He grabbed Dean's arm and started to pull him along side. He didn't like how slowly Dean was moving, and how limp his arm was.

"Where are we going Sammy?"

"Well... and don't say I told you so. Cause God help you if you do...We're gonna jump."

Dean let out a small short laugh, "It's time you grew a pair."

Sam sighed. He bit back his retort, even thought he felt his anger level rise. But he reminded himself this was his brother. And he reminded himself that no matter how annoying Dean was, he was never truly mad at him in his heart.

Dean slowly followed behind Sam, his head cast down. He wasn't sure he was going to be able to force himself to walk up the flight, but he didn't want to say anything to his brother. He didn't have a choice any way. They were half way up the stairs when Sam stopped abruptly causing Dean to bump into him. "What the...?"
Sam pointed his gun at the little girl who had suddenly appeared at the top of the staircase. He wasn't taking any chances.

"You again." Dean stated to Sam's surprise.

The little girl looked up with her big sorrowful eyes. "Did my daddy hurt you?"

"Yes he did." Dean answered.

"Will you still help us?"

"Love to honey, but we need some help ourselves. Think you could help us too?" Dean asked.

Sam, who had stayed quiet so far said, "Met before?" He asked Dean nodding towards the kid.

But Dean ignored him. "Can you show us a way out?"

"My brother used to sneak out of the attic when he was little. Whenever Daddy would punish us he would hide and then get out."

This caught Sam's attention. Maybe there was a safe way out. "Will you show us?" He asked.

"I don't know where it is. But my brother said you need to hurry. He's talking to Daddy, but he's very mad. He's going to back for you soon." She started to fade away.

"Wait! Sam called. Where is your brother? Can he help us."

The little girl walked to a small window and pointed out then dissappeared. Sam ran up the final steps to the window to see what she had pointed to. With the sun shining he could barely make it out over the glare. But far in the distance were a bunch of trees. And if his unfocused eyes weren't playing tricks on him, he saw headstones. "Dean, it's a cementary!" He called back. "I bet that's where he's buried!" He turned back to find Dean had reached the top of the stairs but had sunk to his knees with his head down. "Dean!" Sam ran to him, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Stay with me man."

Dean looked up at Sam. And for the first time since they had been in that hell hole of a house he didn't feel any anger. He felt like his old self, like the big brother he normally was. And suddenly all his normal instincts kicked in, and so did the worry for his little brother. "Sammy. Get outta here. Go burn the bones."

"What? Are you telling me to leave you here? Cause that's not gonna happen." Dean didn't respond, he just sighed. Sam felt a new wave of panic wash over him. "Dean? What's wrong?"

"I...don't think I can make it up to the attic Sam." Dean hated that he had to admit how weak he was feeling. He couldn't stand doing that to Sam. But he also couldn't hold his baby brother back if there was a chance for him to get out to safety. "I'll keep him busy. Burn the bones and then we'll both get out of here."

Sam was adamantly shaking his head, "No. No way. We're going together, even if I have to carry your ass."

"Damit Sammy. Any other time your Mr. Logical. Don't start this shit right now!"

"What shit! What, I shouldn't act like I give a damn about my brother? I'm supposed to leave you here to get deep fried again!"

Dean's breathing was becomming faster, he was feeling that anger rise up again. I wonder if that means he's back? he thought. "Sam listen to me! Stuff the emotional shit right now and focus on the job! Focus on keeping us alive! Right now that means since you're able, you get the fuck out of here and burn the bones!"

"I'm not leaving you! So get it through that feaking' thick headed stubborn skull of yours!"

Dean mustered up a small bit of strength and gave Sam a weak shove. "Get out while you can you idiot! You aren't gonna die because of me!" Dean was panting now. He was getting dizzy and felt on the verge of passing out. Fuck! He always knew he was a magnet, but he thought it was for women, not electricity! God, he couldn't believe how much getting a jolt could fuck you up.

Sam watched his brother, and it didn't go un-noticed how much weaker he was becoming. His skin had turned pale and he had begun to sweat and breathe heavier. Sam was sure he was going to pass out any minute. Their emotions were getting out of control again. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that wasn't a good sign. It probably meant Mr. Wells was near by or on his way. Taking a deep breath and keeping his voice low and even he said, "Dean. Please. Please let me get us out of here. Together. You can't ask me to leave you behind. I can't do it." He gave his brother's shoulders a slight squeeze and gave him a light smile. Adding a more pleading tone, "Please Dean. I can't leave you." Taking advantage of his brother's weakened stated he knelt down a little further and slipped Dean's arm over his shoulder. When Dean didn't protest he pulled them to their feet. "Okay, up to the attic. We can do this Dean."

Dean tried to mumble something but he couldn't quite get the words out. He leaned on Sam more than he would have liked, but there would have been no way he would have stood up alone. Sam should have left him. He knew Sam could have been out by now if he wasn't lugging his pathetic big brother along with him. But he never could refuse Sam when his voice took that pleading tone. Never could.

Halfway up the second flight of stairs Dean knew he couldn't make it. Sam was practically dragging him now. "Sam stop." Dean whispered.
"No."

"Sam, you gotta stop. Your head's starting to bleed again. You can't keep hauling me."

"Yes I can. Now shut up and keep your ears open. I'm sure he'll be back anytime." It was getting harder for Sam to keep pulling his brother. His head was throbbing so hard he could feel the pulse beating above his eyes. His vision was still a little blury and his back was screaming in agony with every step. But he could push it all down. He had to. No way were the Winchesters going down in a stupid run of the mill haunting. No way. Finally they made it to the last step and found themselves facing a door. Sam manuvered Dean to the wall. "Stand here till I get it open." Dean nodded, his eyes only halfway open.

Hoping for a bit of luck Sam tried the handle. He almost laughed out loud when it turned and the door opened. Since when did things go their way? But oh he was glad it did. Grabbing his brother again they headed into the attic. It only had a few small windows so the sunlight wasn't as strong in there. Shadows bounced off the walls everywhere. The room was huge. And it was full of junk and furniture. Great, Sam thought. Where do we start to look for the escape?

"Couldn't be easy, could it?" Dean spoke up.

Sam laughed, "Not for us." He moved Dean towards a chair and sat him down. "Sit here. I'll start looking around." Dean didn't respond or argue with him. Of course, this only pushed Sam's panic button. "Dean!"

His head snapped up. "Yeah. Just for a minute...til I catch my breath."

Sam tried to push his concern down for the time being. He had to find that escape route. He began at the door and started making his way down the wall. Worried about his brother he started talking. He didn't want Dean to become unconsious. "So what are you thinking Dean? Trap door, secret passage? Dean!"

"Who knows. Maybe there's a slide we can go down."

"That would be cool." Sam replied.

Dean was trying incredibly hard to keep his eyes open, to stay alert. But it was becomming harder. He thought maybe if he stood up and moved he would feel better. He braced his hands on the arm rests and pushed himself up. "Okay Sam...I'm gonna help you look."

Before Sam could answer there was that familiar flash of light. Mr. Wells appeared in front of Dean. In surprise Dean went to step back and hit the back of his legs on something causing himself to fall. He hit his head and the last thing he remembered hearing was Sam calling his name.
"Dean!" Sam screamed as he ran towards him. He was just beginning to aim the gun when Mr. Wells brought up his arm and Sam was hit with the feeling of flying. He felt the wall behind him, but just as he hit it, he felt it give. Then he felt the falling sensation, and that familiar feeling of landing, incredibly hard. He groaned and tried to push himself back up as fast as he could. But he was too late. Mr. Wells was already standing over him.

"You boys are in a lot of trouble. You didn't cooperate with the lesson, and now you will be punished."

Sam was trying to scoot backwards, towards his gun. "Yeah, cause we haven't already been punished enough." He said sarcastically.

"Such insolence." Mr. Wells said shaking his head, "It's a shame that children aren't raised the right way anymore. Swearing, talking back, sexual activity, loud music. You'd be surprised what I've seen come through here. And I've taught them all a lesson that was in dire need of learning."

"The right way? I think child abuse falls under a different category." Sam kept his eyes trained on the ghost, but he knew he was just about to his gun.

"Abuse? I have never abused. I have taught lessons and shown the way to forgiveness. Children must be lead down the right path in order for them to succeed as adults."

Sam's fingers grazed the gun. But just as he was about to fully grab it he felt himself pinned by an invisible force to the spot. Mr. Wells walked to him. He picked up the gun and threw it behind him. "We won't be needing that young man." With a wave of his Sam was lifted up and pushed against the wall face first. "Now let's talk about your sins. What shall we start with?" he paused, then got real close to Sam and whispered in his ear. "How about lying? Like the way you lied to your girlfriend and how you let her die because of it."

Sam sucked in a breath. He hated the way these things could get into your mind. He so didn't want to go there. He knew his life with Jessica was nothing but a lie. But he loved her. He didn't mean for her to get killed.

"We will start with ten lashings for your lies. Then you can ask for forgiveness." Mr. Wells said. To Sam's horror he saw out of the corner of his eye a belt appear in the ghost's hands. He closed his eyes and tightened his jaw, preparing for what he knew was coming.