Oops... forgot to explain the title. Just in case any of you were wondering why it's called Tretheway House and there's no one by that name in the story. I tool the name from a local legend in my town. There's a road here called Tretheway Road and a family was murdered there a while back. They say it's haunted now. So I took that idea and changed it up a bit. Just thought I'd share the history.

Thanks again for reading!

Chapter 8:

The first thing he became aware of was the pain. His entire body trembled with every breath. He was laying on something that was poking into his back sharply, but he couldn't find it in himself to move. There was also something heavy on his legs, but he didn't even want to try to lift his head to look. He opened his eyes and found only darkness. From some where far off he could see a sliver of light. He turned his head slightly, wincing from the pain, and saw that it was the beam of the flashlight coming out from under a bunch of wood. Then suddenly it all came rushing back to him. Where he was, what happened and that the stairs gave way. Dad! Sammy! He suddenly had the motivation to try and move. As he willed his body to sit up he cried out in pain as his ribs were set on fire. He knew from experience something was broken. "Sammy? Dad?" He called out, but received no response. With very slow and careful movements Dean began the process of moving the debris off his body. "Sam! Dad! Can you hear me!" He called out again, desperate to hear something from his family.

"Dean?" Came a low and pained response.

"Dad! Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine." a pause. "Just give me a minute to get this shit off of me. Are you okay? Where's Sam?"

"Sammy!" Dean screamed. "I can't see shit Dad. Can you reach the flashlight?"

It didn't go un-noticed to John that Dean didn't answer his first question. John's body was screaming in agony with every move, he knew his son's weren't any better. And he knew Dean would feign that he was okay, at least until they heard from Sam. With a very strained effort John reached his flashlight and turned it on brighter. He scanned the area. They had fallen into the basement by the looks of things. The debris from the rotten stairs and the floors had fallen all around them. To his right he saw that he had just missed being impaled on a metal stand. He forced himself to stand. His legs were shaky and his head immediately began to throb. He reached up and felt the blood running on his forehead. As he tried to step forward he couldn't hold in the gasp of pain from his left knee. Slowly he tested his weight on the leg, and finding that it wasn't broken, he limped forward. For just a moment he closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to Mary, asking her to let his sons be all right.

As he moved forward in search of Dean he heard his son's moans of pain and the sound of the debris being moved. His light finally found him and he hurried to his son's side, helping him to free himself of the rubble. As he pulled Dean away from the mess he gave him a look over for injuries. John noted the open wound on the back of his head, the way he clutched his arm to his ribs, the pale face, the blood trickling from his mouth, and the unfocused eyes. Dean was in bad shape. "Okay Dean," he said as he helped his son scoot back against a wall, "I gotta find Sam. You stay right here and try not to move too much."

Dean shook his head, "I'll help."

"Dean." John said more firmly. "You're hurt. You're no good to Sam this way. We need to get out of here. I don't need to have to carry you both out. Sit here, that's an order."

Dean clenched his jaw shut and for a moment just stared at his father. His brother, his responsibility, could be laying in that damn basement dying and he was supposed to just sit there? But in the end, he was the good soldier he always was. "Yes sir." He said in a clipped response.

John nodded, but he didn't miss the hesitation or the look he received from Dean. His boys had definitely become a united front. And as glad as he was about that, he couldn't help but feel that pain of being an outsider. Of being the 'drill sargent' who they listened to, but not the father they needed. Not for the first time in the last year, he felt that sorrow again. Sorrow for what he had done to his boys. Suddenly he pushed those feelings aside. He would have plenty of time to make up for that, right now he needed to save his boys' life, then they could deal with everything else. "Sammy!" He called. Quickly he gave a look back to Dean and found that his boy had his eyes closed, head leaned back against the wall. He was out cold. "Damn it!" He yelled out loud. "Sam, answer me! That's an order!" Then he heard it. A soft moan and stirring. "Sam!"

After a short pause of silence his son spoke up, "Here. I'm right here Dad."

John made his way towards Sam's voice. Finally his light found him. Sam looked like he was the luckier of the three. He had landed on a wooden table, which broke beneath his fall, but there was nothing on top of him. John bent and grabbed the boy's collar pulling him into a seated position. "Anything broken?"

Sam shook his head and rubbed his temples, "Don't think so. Just hurts all over."

John went behind him and looked at Sam's back. "Damn it. Your backs bleeding again Sam. Think you can get up?"

"Yeah. Where's Dean?"

"He's okay." John gave his son a hand and pulled him to his feet, holding him by the shoulders until he regained his balance. "Dizzy?"

"A little bit." Sam conceded. Slowly he turned his head side to side to get a better look at where they were at. "Great, the basement. Now how are we getting out of here?"

"Don't worry, I'll find a way." John assured him. John led Sam slowly over to Dean, stepping over the broken wood and other items that had been crushed beneath it. Along the way he found his bag. He bent over to pick it up and stiffled the groan of pain that shot through his back. Damn, this had really gone sour. Hadn't he just yelled at his boys for getting into trouble? And now, here he was in the same way he had found them. No, at least when he first found them they were only mildly injured. Now they were really hurt. He had pissed of Mr. Wells good, and now his boys were suffering for it. They had to get out of there and fast!

When they reached Dean he was still unconcious. "Dean!" Sam screamed and ignored his pain as he fell to his brother's side. He reached for his neck and felt for a pulse, letting out a relieved breath when he found it. "Dean? Dean, wake up!"

John knelt down beside his boys and cupped Dean's face in his hands. "Dean. Son, open your eyes." He lightly slapped Dean's cheeks. "Dean!" He called more firmly.

Dean's eyes fluttered and he slowly opened them. "Dad?" His mind was fuzzy and he couldn't quite remember what happened. "What are you doing here? Where's Sammy?"

"I'm right here Dean." Sam said, worry began to fill his heart at Dean's confusion.

"You okay?" Dean asked weakly.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Dean, look at me." John said, "We need to move now. I'm going to lift you."

Dean stared at him for a moment, "What's going on?" He started to let his eyes close again.

"Dean!" John shouted. "Don't close your eyes. We have to get moving and I can't carry you all the way out. Open your eyes! Suck it up for now Dean." John didn't miss the look of disgust Sam sent his way. Instead he steadied himself and began to reach for Dean to pull him up. That's when they heard the noise behind them and light filled the room.

Sam and John stood quickly and spun around, Sam placing himself in front of Dean as Mr. Wells appeared.

The ghost set his eyes straight to John. "Have you heard of the saying the apple doesn't fall far from the tree?" John said nothing. "I see now where your boys learned their traits. Like father like sons."

"Shut the hell up." John said. Slowly he was reaching into his pocket for his holy water.

"I wouldn't do that again if I were you." Mr. Wells warned. Then with a wave of his hand he sent John flying into the wall behind him, pinning him there.

Sam stood stunned, wanting to help his father, but not wanting to leave Dean unprotected. Then he remembered that his dad had given him a vial of holy water. Quickly he reached into his pocket and fast as he could opened it and flung it at the ghost. Mr. Wells let out a hiss and disappeared. John was immediately released from the wall and fell to his knees. Sam ran to him and helped him up.

"You okay Dad?"

"Fine. Let's get your brother."

Just as they turned to go back to Dean the light returned once again. This time however, Mr. Wells did not appear. Instead, the light moved in front of them and over to Dean, engulfing his body. John and Sam watched helplessly as Dean's body arched away from the wall and the light moved inside of him. Then in horror they watched as Dean opened his eyes and stood, without any sign of pain, faced them and smiled, his eyes shining brightly.

"No!" Sam screamed.

–TBC-

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