Bloodlines | The Ifrit

Trials

"STOP!" Rim launched herself at the growing form wreathed in smoke. She knew, deep down, that her mother was still in there, but she wasn't sure she would be able to reach her in time. "Mother, you can't!"

Lidless eyes turned their attention to Rim. The space once filled with warm brown orbs had been replaced with what looked like a mound of coals - burning brighter at the prospect of conflict. The too-wide mouth of the creature cracked into a hideous grin and roared in defiance, flames rolled out over its lips in a fearsome display.

Without warning a long arm backhanded Rim into the wall of the church.

Dean screamed.

"You bitch!" Dean ran headlong at the towering figure, pulling a sharp, heavy weapon from the inside of his coat. Rim lay against the wall watching the scene unfold.

Sam trying desperately to fend off Abaddon as she struggled to get to Crowley. Dean rushing at her mother - iron nail raised, and the King of Hell cowering in the center of a mass of splintered pews.

She didn't know where the strength came from.

If you asked her to do it again she wouldn't be able to replicate it.

In an instant she was at Dean's side, but she didn't recognise the look of terror on his face. Rim snagged him by the collar of his jacket and ripped him backwards, spinning him into the nearest row of pews and removing the nail from his hands.

The voice that left her lips was not her own, "This fight is mine!"

Again she flung herself on the molten form and slashed the iron spike across the abdomen of the creature, flinching at the scream that erupted from flame wreathed lips. It still sounded faintly like the woman who raised her.

Ducking another blow she collided harshly with the being's torso, a harsh cry erupting from deep inside her chest, feeding her rage. She could feel the power coming to a boil inside of her, this had been what Bobby and John had warned her of - there would be no coming back from this.

She could already feel the flames burning away at vital pieces of her.

The last time she let go it was just a physical pain - now it seemed the power was bent on consuming her mind. With a cry she fell to her knees, her hands pressed over her eyes and cradling her head.

Images flashed before her in a feverish march: Sitting on her father's shoulders at a baseball game. Falling off her bike and chipping her tooth. Her mother kissing her goodnight. The fire that took them both. John carrying her body from the ashes. Meeting Bobby. Her first hunt.

With each passing memory she relived she felt a weight lift, leaving only a satisfying emptiness as the void of power consumed her triumphs and regrets with equal fervor.

*****

Dean watched in confusion and horror as Rim's features contorted in a mixture of pain and relief. He wasn't sure of what was happening, but with each passing second he could tell he was losing her.

"H-Hey, Rim? Rim! Look at me." Dean's brow furrowed in concern as he took her face in his hands. "Whatever you're about to do-"

Rim wrapped her fingers around the lapels of his jacket and pulled him roughly into a desperate embrace. Her lips clashed with his in a bruising, punishing kiss.

For that moment there was nothing but Dean Winchester.

He pulled her close, his scent filling her nostrils. Leather and whiskey, just a hint of spearmint. She wanted him to be the last memory that she fed to the flames.