Do you Promise?

Mission: Banshee

"B-banshee?!" I asked, my eyes widening as they scanned the object Dean had just pulled out from under his pillow. It was a long silver knife. I gulped and then continued talking when the boys nodded, "But, banshee's are Irish death omens... They aren't supposed to kill, right?"

The boys looked at me oddly before Sam asked, "How do you know that and why are you not freaking out right now?"

I gulped again and started talking in a low and fast voice, trying to get everything out as fast as possible, "I've always been kinda obsessed with the stuff of supernatural persuasion and I might have, maybe, kinda, seen slash been attacked by a few ghosties before... Now the better question here is, how do you two know and why aren't you freaking out?"

Both boys took in the information I had ust told them and then Dean said, "Look, tht's for another time, like after we deal with the rabid banshee outside." After seeing my confused look Dean explained, "Sometimes, there are banshees who are total dicks, which are the ones from America and not Ireland. They just want people dead for the hell of it because they're ghouls, and I guess the people at this motel just pissed him off somehow and he wants us all dead. Now unless you wanna turn into Kibble Bits, you might wanna move your ass and help us kill this thing."

I blinked and then slowly nodded and asked, "What can I do to help?"

"Well," Sam began, "The banshee will probably either be and old hag,"

"Or a hot babe." Dean finished for him.

Sam nodded, somewhat uncomfortable. I nodded, telling them to keep going and Sam said, "We need you to be a distraction. We know you can't move too fast wth your injuries and it knows that too, so it will go after you first. We need you to take this," Sam handed me an iron woodpoker from the fireplace and then continued, "and swing it at the Banshee if it comes too close. In the meantime, me and Dean will be working on an old Latin incantation to send it away, okay?"

I nodded stiffly, not believing what I was about to do. I clutched the firepoker in my hand and slowly ventured outside. There was no one around, but I heard the screeching plain as day. I surprisingly built up more courage with eahc step and I was suddenly in the middle of the parking lot, holding my arms out like a challenge and shouted, "Come and get me you ugly SOB!"

Suddenly the wailing was right behind me and I whirled around the be faced with... ugh... I was right, she was ugly. She made a blurred movement, trying to stike me, but ended up getting hit in the head with my firepoker. She disappeared with a fuzzy, staticy noise. Then she reappeared behind me silently.

I didn't notice until I had a death grip on my neck and her other hand re-opening my car wounds. I tried to yell, but all that came out was a choked whisper. I silently prayed from Sam and Dean to finish the incantation already, I was starting to see black spots in my vision.

I was going under a cloud and my brain couldn't form thoughts, my knees buckled and I felt my eyes slip shut. Then, the grip was suddenly gone, and I was faceplanting on the ground and taking breath after breath of sweet sweet air.

I clutched at my newly re-opened wounds and my just plain new ones. I managed to gasp out Sam and Dean's names, seeing them enter my vision before I drfted out of consciousness.

I woke up sweating and my side was hurting worse than a burnt batch o' cookies. I gasped as I felt pain tear through my body and I looked around, seeing I was back in the motel room. Sam and Dean were by my side in an instant and no words were needed for me to know they were sorry.

But I deserved some explainations, "I need some answers guys, I almost just died..."

Sam took a deep breath, looked at Dean, and started, "