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Fading Memories

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Summary: Memories of fire will remain scorched in three specific minds for all their lives even if they start to fade over time... 3 POVS with memories of the night of the fire.

Disclaimer: The usual... I don't own the characters or anything associated with the show...

Warnings: Season 4 spoilers and bad language

A/N: *flails* I'm still in shock about this winning so a huge thank you. Also, I have to say a thank you to Gen ('cause I told her I'd blame her) for sparking the idea for POV numero uno. Povs are a spider (strange, huh?), John and Lucifer...

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POV1: The Spider

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Little Miss Muffet, sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey. Along came a spider, who sat down beside her, and frightened Miss Muffet away.

I remember hearing that poem when I was naught but a spiderling and it always made me wonder if those words were the reason for all the screams and all the rolled up newspapers and all the Goddamn vacuum cleaners. I mean, come on! Humans are scared shitless whenever I scutter into the room. It's hilarious to watch. Completely idiotic, but hilarious. They're all so Goddamn scared.

Not her though. She doesn't even pay attention to me as I make my way across the ceiling to the web in the far corner. It's not that she doesn't know I'm there, because she does… her eyes had locked onto me several times throughout the night as she had sang to her miniature one. I'd seen her considering trapping me, her eyes narrowed as she no doubt considered what method would be best – but in the end, she left me be.

And right now, I was the least of her worries. Right now, her eyes were trained on the man with yellow eyes. And I had to admit, he was one scary son of a bitch. I wouldn't have put it past him to put me in his mouth and just chew, chew, chew… Damn humans, distracting me from my purpose. Oh well, at least they weren't trying to swat at me for once.

Ignoring their voices from below, I scuttered ever faster towards the web, disappointment filling me when I saw it was completely undisturbed. The flies just aren't flying tonight. They hadn't been flying last night either – so it was a good thing I'd had a big meal earlier in the week. Trying not to wallow on the emptiness, I turned myself back around just in time to hear her scream. It was like she could feel my inner turmoil… well, it was either that or something to do with the fact she had somehow ended up on the ceiling, inches away from me.

Talk about a near death experience! These humans really need to be more careful with where they're throwing themselves – damn reckless. She could have killed me! Feeling tiny sparks of anger flare up in me, I made a point to scurry across her golden locks as I headed back towards the window. That'd show her!

Or at least it would have if I hadn't lost my grip. I didn't even have time to spin out some thread as I came crashing towards her mini one, landing neatly on its blankets. My eyes lifted and I spotted the male from before, the sight of him causing me to quickly hide in the folds of the blanket, not wishing for him to blame me for his wife being up there on the ceiling. My thread was sticky but even I wasn't that good – there's no way I'd be able to make my work hold a human, not even one as fragile as her.

Ah, but I could breathe a sigh of relief. He hadn't spotted me. He had spotted her however, along with the flames that suddenly erupted from her abdomen.

Flames…? FIRE! FIRE! For God's sake! The house is on fire!!!

Panicking, I struggle to remain attached to the blanket as we suddenly start moving and I watch in horror as I'm being carried further and further away from my little home under the window sill… away from my beloved Henrietta.

"HENRIETTA!" I scream her name but I know no one hears me, the humans never understand and the rush of the flames is too loud for Hennie to hear my plea. But then, as I feel myself sinking into a hopeless despair, I already know it's too late.

My home, my life, my love… all gone. Too quick. Too soon. I couldn't even do anything to stop it. And now my only hope for revenge against whatever had caused it is the man who's shoulder I currently sit on, his arms wrapped tight around the mini ones that the woman with no fear had given him.

I pray to the great mystic spider God that somehow he will do what I cannot – that he will avenge the death of my beloved Henrietta.

Vengeance shall be mine!!!

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Thank you for reading!