DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural. I actually don't own much of anything. I'm pathetically poor. Or maybe just pathetic. I suppose it's a matter of opinion.

A thousand thanks to my supporters. Really -- youall rock. Keep them coming!

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"I can't believe you let her come with us," Sam griped at his brother as they walked from the Impala toward the bridge, weapons, flashlights, and exorcism books in hand.

"She's really very persuasive," Dean said, defending himself.

"No, she isn't. All she did was bat her eyes at you and you agreed."

"Well, she has persuasive eyes, then."

"I'm right here," Krista reminded them.

"So what's the plan?" Sam continued.

"You'll exorcize the poltergeist while I distract it."

"Oh, gee – that's a fabulous plan. You'll either be getting the crap kicked out of you or disappearing and randomly showing up somewhere else a few hours later. And then where will I be?"

"Hey, I'm a good distraction. Just keep reading no matter what."

"I can help," Krista offered, still following them through the trees.

"And what happens if you go down before I'm done? It kills me, too?" Sam went on, still ignoring the girl.

"I won't go down," Dean insisted.

"How can you be so sure? Is it going to be like the airplane demon, with me doing the exorcizing and you screaming your head off in the corner?"

"That was an entirely different situation," the older Winchester snapped.

"Why don't you do the exorcism and I'll be the distraction?"

"Because your Latin is a lot better than mine, college boy."

"I know Latin," Krista said from behind, still trying to get them to acknowledge her as the trio was exiting the trees and reaching the bridge. This comment finally worked; the two in front of her stopped dead.

"You can?" Dean asked.

She shrugged. "Sure. I took four years of it in school. The language may be dying but it's still beautiful."

"Oh, great, a poet," Dean said. "That's helpful."

"But if she can read the exorcism while we're both doing the distracting, it should work out a lot better, right?" Sam said.

Dean turned to Krista. "Don't you dare mess this up, then. It's a lot of responsibility."

Sam rolled his eyes. "She'll be fine. Just let her do her thing."

Taking a collective deep breath, they stepped onto the bridge and waited for the fog to start coming. After five minutes, they got worried. Nothing was happening. Birds were singing and the air was as clear and crisp as could be. No clouds were in the sky. After ten minutes, they were getting impatient. And at fifteen, Dean was grousing again.

"Maybe it only works on dark and stormy nights."

"Yeah, poltergeists love bad weather," Sam snapped back.

"Would you two stop?" Krista interjected. "I don't think you're helping."

The brothers glared at each other before turning away. "Well, start the exorcism," Sam suggested. "I've never found a better way to attract an angry spirit than to try to banish it."

"True," Dean agreed. "Go ahead and start reading."

Krista opened the book they had given her and started reading the Latin words. She understood most of what she was reading, but was paying more attention to her pronunciation than the meaning. She figured the whole outing was a waste of time until suddenly Dean froze.

"Sam," he croaked out, "it's behind me."

"How do you know?" Sam asked. "I can't see anything."

"I can feel it breathing on the back of my neck," Dean snapped. "Now get over here and help me distract it before it turns me into demon food."

"Eloquent," Sam said, his tone light but his manner completely opposite. He stepped forward a few inches and then stopped when he saw a shadow -- nothing more -- behind his brother.

"Keep reading,"he ordered Krista, who had paused to watch what was going on. Nodding, she went back to what she was doing.

Sam grabbed Dean and stepped in front of him just as the demonic spirit hit him with a strong invisible left hook. It knocked the younger Winchester off his feet and into his brother. They both fell to the ground in a heap. Dean rolled away and to his feet in one fluid motion.

"Why did you do that?" Dean shouted in anger.

"She said it kills the second time," Sam responded, taking Dean's offered hand and getting back up. "Pardon me for not really wanting you to die."

They looked around them, watching for any sign of movement. They could see nothing and knew they wouldn't be able to. They were blinded once again, only this time there was no fog.

Without warning, the book Krista was reading from was snatched from her hands and went flying into the air. Dean dove after it, knowing it was their only hope. He wanted to grab the poltergeist, but it was no use. He landed on the grass off the bridge and only a few feet away from the book. Krista was coming toward him to get the book herself when Sam was thrown violently into the side of the bridge, his ribs cracking painfully loudly as he hit and then dropped to the ground. Before he could even react, he was in the air again, his head slamming into the same railing that he had just hit. He went down and stayed down.

Dean was on his feet in an instant, having forgotten about the book in his haste to rescue his brother. Krista was almost off the bridge to pick up the book when Sam's groaning voice came up to her.

"Don't leave the bridge," he mumbled. "We'll have to start all over."

She nodded. "Dean," she pleaded, "Bring me the book. Sam will be fine."

Dean, realizing what he was doing, turned back retrieve the item in question, moving as fast as he could. By the time he got back to the bridge, Sam had dragged himself back to his feet and was clutching the railing miserably, blood running down his head.

"Sam," Dean began, handing the book to Krista, "Get down."

"Why?" his brother snapped irritably. "You think it will be harder for him to get me if I'm laying down?"

"Then get off the bridge entirely."

"And leave you here to be murdered? I think not."

"You're in no condition to–"

Dean was interrupted by a massive physical force shoving him backwards over the railing and into the water below. His back was on fire where he had hit the wood, but he ignored it and clambered back to his feet. He was now freezing cold, too. He jumped up, half-expecting his brother and the girl to be dead. But the situation hadn't changed at all since he went over. Krista looked at him in shock momentarily, then went back to finding her page and reading the exorcism.

As the Latin was being chanted once more, Dean grabbed Sam. "You have to get off this bridge," he snarled.

"I can't," Sam returned. "You'll need help."

Since everything up to this point had done nothing but prove that statementto be completely true, Dean released his brother and stepped back. "Then try not to die."

"Likewise."

Krista continued to read, happy that she was nearing the end of the page. But the poltergeist still had some fight left in him.

And Dean was supposed to die, since it was his second run-in with said spirit.

To the horror of all three people on the bridge, the poltergeist materialized on one end of the bridge. It was a strong man, dressed in clothes far too old for the current time, wielding a very large, very sharp sword. And he didn't look happy.

Grinning morbidly, he charged for Dean.