This is my first fanfic ever. The story didn`t let go of me, so I wrote it down. English isn`t my first language, so please be gentle!

Thanks to Zatnikatel, a wonderful writer who took the time to look at my story. Kate, I owe you at least some peanut M&Ms!

Disclaimer: I don`t own "Supernatural" and the characters, just wanna play with them.


Fire. Flames. Friend. Foe.

His first memory of fire was the candles on his birthday cake. His third birthday, his fourth... he couldn`t remember exactly. His mom had shown him the matchbook and said: "A flame is beautiful. But don`t let it come too close, it`ll hurt you." He`d gazed into the flickering light and Mary had smiled at him. The love on her face had warmed his heart more than any flame could do. "You`re a big boy, Dean. I´m so proud of you, honey."

Dean had loved candles and flames. But then one night he felt the burning sensation of a roaring fire on his face and arms, heard the frantic cries of his father and the screaming of the little baby in his arms. Mom was gone. The flames had taken her.

There were no longer candles on birthday cakes after that night. There were no birthday cakes at all. Dean had learned to fear fire and he sometimes was glad to live in cheap motels instead of cozy living rooms with nice fireplaces. And he`d told Sammy that fire was evil, that it lured you in and then hurt you and that sometimes it took what you loved most. But Sammy wouldn`t listen. He didn`t remember THE NIGHT.

Later Dean was forced to use fire as a weapon. He learned that sometimes fire was a hunter`s best friend, that it held evil creatures at bay and put souls to rest. Fire helped him save people and survive in the wilderness. And he appreciated the power and beauty of the flames.

Then his father died. Dean stared into the flames of the pyre and thought that this was the only way it all should end: In flames. He cherished the fire of rage that burned inside him and let it destroy all evil that dared to cross his way. Fire was his friend more than his foe, it helped him escape the cold reality of his life. But he hadn`t experienced Hellfire yet.

Hell burned it all away, the love, the strength, the dignity. The fire laid bare his worst fears, his greatest pain, his biggest loss. The flames engulfed him and after days, years, an eternity he gave in.

He returned, saved by angelic fire, which was pure and white and but also merciless and too horrible to watch.

He tried to fool his fate, to stop his brother from fuelling the fire of revenge, to ignite a flame of hope in a darkening world.

But then again his world exploded in flames. Lucifer rose. The fireball of Carthage saved him from the hellhounds – this time – but burned to ashes two of the few remaining friends that had anchored him and made him smile. The memory of Carthage would haunt his dreams forever.

Dean Winchester would never escape the fire.