So another new chappy...hopefully everyone will enjoy...thanks for sticking with the story so far, and thanks for all the really great reviews, they really keep me going on this extremely long story!! bambers;)

Chapter Forty-Eight

Marianna flipped on the light switch as she walked inside her home, and the lights overhead instantly began to flicker and dim. "Hope you know something about fixing electrical problems, Dean," she said, tossing her purse on the small table in the open entryway before heading into the expansive living room.

Dean stood in the doorway, and cautiously glanced around until his steely gaze fell to the missing banister on the staircase and then traveled down to the large hole in the floorboards near the stairs. His heart skipped a beat and then sped up considerably as he recalled the night he and Sam had been here.

"You take the upstairs, Sammy, an' I'll look around down here," Dean said, raising his gun and moving off to the right toward the living room area.

"Alright, Dean, but be careful an' remember there's more than one of them," Sam warned as he headed up the stairs.

Dean searched the whole lower level of the two-story home, but had turned up nothing and was just about to head into the basement below when he heard his brother cry out his name. With his heart hammering away inside his chest, he raced back toward the staircase.

"Sammy!" Dean hollered as an unnatural icy cold blast of air slammed into him, nearly knocking him off his feet. "Sammy, where the hell are you?" Steadying himself on his feet, Dean rushed to the stairs.

"D-Dean," came another strangled cry from directly above him.

His head dropped back onto his shoulders and he glanced up just in time to see his little brother free fall from the vaulted ceiling overlooking the stairs. Sam slammed hard into banister knocking it the floor as he continued to tumble down the stairs. Dean scrambled up the stairs to help his brother, but just as he reached out to stop him from falling any further, Sam's body was lifted high out his grasp and thrown forward into the opposing wall of the stairwell. Once again he fell, and landed with such force on the floor it cracked and splintered. With another heart-stopping crack, Sam fell through the floor and landed in a heap in the basement.

"Sammy!"

"Dean?" came Marianna's voice, breaking the trance Dean had fallen under. "Yeah, I know there's a hole in the floor," she commented unconcernedly. "I'm hoping that you'll be able to fix that while you're here."

"Why'd you buy this house, Marianna?" Dean uttered in a breathless whisper as he turned to look at her. "You have to know there's something not right about it."

"Well, I think some houses hold a history within their walls. An' sure, some of its gonna be bad, maybe even real bad. But I also feel as if there's a story of strength an' determination hidden beneath these rafters, an' that's why I'm here." She turned on her heel and headed toward the kitchen. "I was just thinkin' of making myself a hamburger before I turn in for the night, you want one?"

At the thought of food, Dean stomach rumbled. "Only if it's not gonna be a problem," he uttered as he followed her, knowing that she was probably just cooking for his benefit.

"Not a problem in the least."

As Dean entered the kitchen he was surprised to see that unlike the rest of the home, this room had been completely refinished. The honey-oak hardwood floors gleamed from beneath his feet. The cabinets had been sanded, fitted with new hardware and were now painted hunter green. New black marbled counter tops had been installed. In the center of the room stood an island with copper pots and pans hanging above it on a wrought iron rack. Floral curtains hung from the only windows in the house that weren't still boarded up.

"You did all this by yourself?"

"I like to think that I'm not totally helpless, Dean." Marianna chuckled. Opening the freezer, she rummaged around inside for hamburger meat, but after a moment turned back to look at Dean. "I'm out of hamburger. I do have bacon though so if you'd like, I can make you a BLT?"

"That sounds great." Dean's stomach rumbled even louder. "Mind if I take a look around while you're cooking?" he asked, thinking of the EMF reader he had stashed in his duffel. The last time he was here the EMF readings were quite high, but after he salted and burned the bones he'd found buried in the backyard, the lighted reader registered nothing abnormal.

"Yeah, just be careful on the stairs, some of them are weak, an' as you saw there's no railing."

"Yeah, I saw that," Dean murmured, tears shimmering in his eyes. Turning an about face, he trudged out of the room before he broke down.

Dean grabbed his EMF reader out of his duffel and switched it on. Immediately it lit up, the lights flashing for a moment before they all stayed lit. "Sonuvabitch," he cursed under his breath. He moved around the open entryway and then headed into the living room, but no matter where he stood, the reader stayed lit. Faulty electrical might have caused a sudden surge and spike on the reader in some areas in the old house, but the readings Dean was now getting were off the chart. Whatever was in this home now was bigger and potentially more dangerous than anything he'd ever come across while hunting vengeful spirits.

Yet, for all his readings throughout both rooms he had been in so far, he felt strangely calm. He headed for the stairway, and made his way up the creaky, sagging steps. Images of Sam falling from the ceiling above once again flashed through his mind causing him to cringe.

The lights on his EMF reader suddenly grew more intense, and then abruptly popped loudly, each one shattering in turn before the reader went dead. With another loud crack, the glass above the indicator needle shattered. "Okay, this is so not good."

"What are you doin', Dean?" Marianna's voice came from directly behind him, and he jumped, startled that he hadn't even heard her come up the stairs behind him. "You're sandwich is ready." She hitched her thumb back over her shoulder. "I also have a pot of coffee brewing if you want some."

"Thanks, I could really use a cup of coffee."

"I thought you might," she said as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You know everything's gonna be alright, don't you, Dean?"

"What do you mean?" He quirked a puzzled brow, wondering if she was referring to his problems with Sam or with whatever was lurking within the walls of the old home.

"I take it you believe in ghosts." Marianna gestured to the broken EMF reader, and when his expression grew even more perplexed, she went on to add, "What can I say, I watch Ghost Hunters on television."

"You watch Ghost Hunters? I thought you said you didn't believe in ghosts?"

"I actually watch it because of Grant, something about him just really does it for me." She blushed sweetly. "He kind of reminds me of my husband. Always out there searching for the truth, and even if I don't actually think ghosts are real, I kinda like the thought of him putting himself in harms way to make sure other people can feel safe."

"You're husband sounds like a really great guy." Dean smiled, thinking of how his own father had always put the safety of others first before caring about his own well-being.

"He really was." A dreamy expression filled her bluish-gray eyes as she thought of her husband. "He was a military man, an' even earned several medals of distinction. He was always so proud of that." Her smile faltered briefly as she looked to Dean.

"My Dad was a Marine," Dean said, knowing instinctively that she would understand how proud he was of his father for serving their country.

"I bet he was a great man." With a smile, Marianna turned and headed back down the stairs, calling back over her shoulders, "There's nothing in this house that's going to hurt you, Dean. So put that thing away then come an' eat."

Dean glanced at the EMF reader in his hand, and shook his head. Whether Marianna chose to believe there was another presence in her house, he knew better. He'd been hunting vengeful spirits practically his whole life, and never once had he come across one powerful enough to completely destroy his reader. Once he reached the first floor landing, he turned his head and glanced back up the stairwell, feeling as if something was watching him. Although it didn't necessarily feel threatening, the feeling persisted as he set the EMF reader back in his duffel and headed into the kitchen.

"So, you said you have two sons," Dean said as he took a seat at the table. "Where are they now?"

"They took after their father." Marianna smiled as she set a plate and cup in front of him. "There off fighting in the war." She poured him some coffee and then filled her own cup before taking a seat beside him. "They get stationed all over the place, so it's really hard to keep track of where they are at any given moment."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," he muttered, thinking of his father, and a sad frown creased his brow. Until his dad had come to rescue both him and his brother, Dean hadn't seen or heard from him in months.

"Sometimes I wonder if they know how much I miss them," Marianna said wistfully, her eyes taking on a faraway look. "An' then out of the blue I'll hear from one of them. An' sometimes they sound so sad and broken . . . an' I just wanna reach out to them an' tell them everything's gonna be okay." She hesitated, tears filling her eyes as she cast a sad smile in Dean's direction. "They've seen things boys their ages should never have to see . . . an' they've fought so damn hard . . . so damn hard. An' sometimes I just don't think people really appreciate the unsung heroes in the world."

Dean had always been so busy fighting against every kind of creature imaginable, he rarely had time to consider those who had fought and died for their country. And in truth, he and they were very much alike. Just like him, they had fought for what they believed in, and were willing to lay down their lives if it meant others were safe.

"I'm sorry."

"Aww . . . there's no reason to be sorry, Dean." Marianna placed a hand on his forearm, and gently squeezed it. "I'm proud of my boys." Her smile faded as she hitched her thumb over his shoulder. "Think I'm gonna go to bed, it's been a long day an' I'm kinda tired."

"Alright." He eyed his uneaten BLT and then glanced back at her. "Thanks for the sandwich."

"Not a problem," she said as she rose to stand. "I'm afraid you'll have to sleep on the couch tonight, but tomorrow I'll fix you up a room."

"That'll be fine," Dean replied although he had no intention of going to bed until he figured out what sort of presence was in the old farmhouse.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Maybe we should just leave them alone, Markus," Lucas said as he glanced out the front windshield of Markus' car at the rundown farmhouse. As he did, he recalled how nice Dean had been to him, taking the time to show him how to shoot a gun when no one else ever had bothered. "Father's dead an' nothin' we do is gonna bring him back."

"He's dead because of them," came Markus' gruff reply without taking his sights off the home where Dean had went into earlier in the night. "Our family is almost all gone because of him and his brother, an' it's up to us to see that they both pay for what they've done."

"Then why don't we jus' get over with?" Lucas inwardly groaned, not liking the idea of taking another man's life, but if he didn't help Markus and his other brothers he knew without a doubt that they would kill him. "Why do we have to wait for his brother to come lookin' for him?"

"Because Father would want them to watch each other die."

Markus' grip tightened around the steering wheel, and Lucas understood this had nothing to do with their Father's wishes. The larger man wanted Dean to suffer because their Father had favored him instead of Markus. He had given Raine to Dean as his wife when Markus had wanted her to be his own. He wanted to kill Dean to prove once and for all that he was better than him. It was as simple as that.

"What if his brother doesn't come looking for him? Then what?"

"Oh, he'll come looking for him, just like he did before." Markus smirked as his hand slid off the steering wheel, and lovingly trailed his fingertips over the branding iron lying on the seat next to him. "An' when he does, we'll have to properly welcome him into the family before we kill him."

"What about the woman he went inside the house with?" Lucas' stomach churned at the thought of hurting an innocent person, but he was too afraid of Markus to voice his objections. "We're not gonna kill her, too, are we?"

"She's housing the enemy, so that makes her an enemy." Markus shifted in his seat to look at Lucas, and a mirthless laugh issued from his thin, pale lips. "So tell me, Lucas, what do you think we're gonna do to her?"

Lucas swallowed hard, feeling the bile rise in his throat. "We're gonna kill her," he uttered in a mere whisper.

"That's right," he laughed all the harder, then gave Lucas a wink, "an' here Father always thought you were the stupid one."