Now let's get into this story for real!! THX for the review sammygirl1963 ;).


Dean felt the hair on his neck rise, and before he could cry out a warning, he saw his brother flew across the room, hitting the wall hard and getting down with a little "wush" leaving his lips, as all the air left his lungs.

Dean didn't have time to help, as he saw the spirit of the poltergeist manifest above the bed of the girl. He knew he couldn't get her out of the line of fire, but knew he had to get rid of the bitch before worse could happen.

He heard it hiss something unintelligible, aimed and shot. The ghost dissipated with a screech and Dean put the gun into the waistband of his jeans, covered the four steps between the door and the bed. He saw the girl trying to stay alert, hoping, he hadn't hurt her with the rock salt, bent down and gently got his hands under the girls body, leaving her wrapped up in the blanket, he lifted her easily. He saw her eyes roll back and muttered softly:"Let's get you outta here."

Meanwhile Sam had gotten his feet under him and was standing, breathing heavily.

He saw his brother carrying the girl towards the door. "You okay?" Dean asked slightly panting. "Yeah, just sore. She okay?" he nodded towards the girl in Dean's arms. His brother shrugged: "Will be. If we get her outta here." Sam nodded. "Let's do this!" He grabbed at his gun hidden by the waistband of his jeans and his jacket, flicking off the safety in one fluid motion.

She could see the men leave with the girl, but knew they would never leave the house. She would hinder them to . And then she would separate them and they would be punished all for their weakness.

A cold cackle let Sam and Dean freeze to their spot. They were at the living room now, not any longer at the second floor. Sam scanned the room but couldn't see anything. He held up his hand, telling his brother to stay there and left the room, swiftly but cautiously striding down the hall. As he arrived at the front-door, he already knew their predicament. "Lock down!" He simply stated, frustration evident in his voice. Silently and fast he moved away from the door and back into the living-room.

It took Dean one glance at Sam and he knew, there wasn't good news to come.

"You know Dean. I hate it when things get that out of control."

He waited, as Dean bent down and let the girl rest on the sofa, pulling his own gun again.

"Yeah, pretty much the same over here, Sammy." He himself scanned the room, stopping short on the huge open fireplace on the far wall. He moved over there scrutinizing it intently.

That's when everything seemed to come alive.

Suddenly books and pictures, vases and furniture started to move, trying to hit them, to confuse them. The door opened and closed again, and wind started to blow through the house. They could hear by the crashes that followed that it was not only happening in the living-room.

Dean tried to see through the movement and make out his brother. He could see Sam back away from the things thrown at him, moving ever so slightly toward the living-room door and dread filled him suddenly.

He raised his voice over the noise: "Stay in the room, Sammy! It's trying to separate us! Get to the girl!" he screamed, hoping his brother could hear him. Then something hard hit him from behind, letting him topple over. He fell on hands and knees, his gun knocked from him with force, as something attached itself on his back. He writhed in utter agony, as icy cold fingers wrapped around his torso, pressing the air out of his lungs. He fell to his side, still not able to breath, gasping for the much needed air, and heard a voice cold and glass-like: "Weaknesss….. must be punished….." The face of the ghost appearing right in front of him.

His hand groping around, finally getting hold of the iron fire-poker, not losing any more time he used every ounce of strength left and brought down the poker in the face of the ghost. It dissipated with a deafening scream, leaving him on the floor gulping in air. The silence that followed the second attack was intense. Then Sam was on him, about him, talking to him, but it needed some time until his hearing came back, the rushing of his blood abated enough for him to hear the constant ramble of his brother. "I'm okay!" he heard himself say with a hoarse voice, letting him cringe.

"How's the girl?" he asked. "She's awake. And scared… got a few scratches, but she's okay."

Dean pushed himself up and swatted away Sam's helping hand, earning a glare.

"Look at that." Dean said, pointing with his index finger at the frame of the open fireplace. Sam took a step closer, looking at the symbols carved into it. If you didn't know what you were looking for, you wouldn't see it, but Sam and Dean could see the Runes embedded through the pattern. "Wow!" Sam whispered, while tracing it with his fingers.

"You think that's it?" he asked Dean, already knowing the answer.

"Yep. I think that's exactly the place…" Dean nodded.

"Where do you think it's hidden?" Sam asked concentrated on the fireplace. "This is going to be no fun…" Dean sighed. "Let's get to work, before the bitch shows up again. He went back to the sofa to retrieve their tools of choice.

The girl still laid there, eyes dazedly looking at him. He crouched down at the duffel, getting the sledgehammer and the crowbar. Stopping short he turned to her, smiling gently.

"Hey, this is over pretty soon. Can you do a job for me?" He knew he needed to busy her.

After some time had passed, she nodded. "You watch our backs?" Again she nodded and he offered her his hand, helping her to stand. "Come on, over there. I think it's better if we stay together." He said, leading the way over to the fireplace.

"What are you gonna do?" she asked, finding her voice again.

"Well… we need to get some sort of souvenir, the spirit left here." Sam explained, looking at her. "You… gonna… break the place?" she asked, looking shocked at the tools in Dean's hands.

Dean grinned cheekily. "We love working out!" His smile vanished as he instantly turned serious again.

"Listen, more time to chat later, okay? We need to get rid of her before she starts getting really mad at us."

"Speaking of…" Sam said, raising his head as the lights started to flicker.

"Move your ass, will ya?" Dean's voice was worried but determined, as he gave the crowbar to his brother, raising the sledgehammer and slammed it hard against the frame of the fireplace.

A scream sounded through the house, letting the walls shake and the windows rattle.

The sledgehammer came down again and the scream turned into something feral. The lights once flickered and then went out completely.

"Sam!" This time Dean's voice was an order, and only a second passed before Sam's flashlight came on, illuminating the room in harsh light and dark shadows. Dean didn't stop his work and went on to smash the frame into little pieces.

With his next blow a big piece of frame went down revealing what they had looked for.

"Phew!" Dean panted, grinning pleased with himself. The grin fading as something dark rushed out of the hole he had created. The screaming spirit enclosing him into an embrace, letting the world around him fade, leaving him again suffocating, but he knew that this would give Sam the time he needed to finish burning the bone. The one thing, binding the spirit of Olivia Sullivan to the here and now.

He went down hard, struggling against the bitch who again let the blood in his veins freeze.

Through a curtain of dark mist he could see Sam starting to move towards him, but, he shook his head and yelled: "Do it! Damn! Sam. Burn the stupid bone!"

He felt himself going under, loosing sight on his little brother, on the things around him, only the darkness reminded.

He wasn't able to breath anymore. Inhaling as deeply as possible but to no avail. There was no relieve for his burning lungs. The cold he felt let him start to shiver, letting him get numb and burned inside of him at the same time. Weakness washing over him… weakness... "Weaknesssss must… be punished…" it took him a moment to comprehend that he heard the spirits whisper again. Then the cold arrived in his brain. He knew he must have screamed and it was his last coherent thought as the world faded into nothingness…

TBC soon...