Chapter 8

Sam and Dean exchanged looks of shock and confusion.

"Where is she?" Dean said in an angry tone.

"I…I don't know."

Dean looked around wildly, searching for where she might be. He somehow felt responsible for her, like it was his fault that he didn't protect her. The lights flickered. The ground shook. The screeches and moans started again. 'Not again. Not now,' Dean thought. The poltergeist pushed the tables against them, but harder. Sam pushed against the table, but it was no use. Dean couldn't breathe from the pressure. He tried reaching for the matches again. They were so close that he could feel them on his fingers. More and more he reached. With all of his might, he stretched his arm. All he could think about now was burning the corpse of Miley Walker. A hand grabbed the pack of matches. This time, it wasn't Dean's.

Dean looked up to see whom it belonged to, but it was too dark to see. They had their back turned to him as they dropped a lighted match into the dirt hole. Success! The bones lit up like the bright sun in the morning. The tables ceased pushing against the brothers. Dean shoved it out of the way and ran over to the figure. He touched its shoulders and turned it to face him. His face went blank.

"Skye?"

A smile came across her face.

"Hey Dean."

Sam walked over to them. His face was as astonished as Dean's.

"You're alive."

"Yeah."

"But…how?"

Neither of the Winchesters could believe it. They saw, with their own eyes, her death. They watched her lie limply on the ground with blood gushing out of her. The blade had pierced her heart, and now she stood, looking better than ever, smiling at the fact that they were all beaten up and she he not a scratch on her.

"I have healing powers. I've had them for as long as I can remember. Though, I didn't realize it until I got hit by a bus when I was seven."

They laughed.

"What exactly do you mean by healing powers?"

Dean still didn't quite get the full extent of her power.

"I mean…"

She walked closer to him and took off her right glove.

"I mean… the power to heal."

She placed her hand on his forehead where the cut was from the possessed shovel. It hurt Dean a little, but her hands were so gentle and soothing that he didn't really mind. A pale light shone from her hand and made Dean's face numb. She took her hand away and the wound was gone. She quickly stuffed her hand back into her glove and stepped back. Dean got the feeling back in his face, but there was no pain. He brushed his hand over his forehead. Not a drop of blood was left. He couldn't believe this either. First she wakes from the dead, and now she claims she's a healer. What next?

"How did you get those powers?" Sam wondered, still looking at Dean's scar that was no longer there.

"I don't know, but I think it has something to do with my mother's death. That was another weird one."

"How did she die?"

Skye's face became solemn.

"I don't know for sure because I was only six months old, but my dad said that she burned on the ceiling."

Sam and Dean, again, exchanged looks of disbelief.

"I think it's a demon or something. That's how I got into hunting."

At this moment, Sam realized that Skye was one of the "children like him" that the demon had mentioned.

"Skye… that happened to our mother too, and it is a demon. We've seen it. We think it killed our father too."

Dean looked down when Sam mentioned their father.

"Really?"

Sam nodded.

"I thought I was the only one. Why did it come after us?"

Dean rolled his eyes, knowing what Sam was going to say.

"I get premonitions. I see people die before it happens and then we try and save them. These visions… they only show deaths to do with the demon. Even these people, Frank and Anna… I saw them too."

"Please Sam, none of this was not because of you. Mom's death was not your fault."

"Yeah? And dad's death wasn't your fault."

Sam and Dean were right up in each other's faces now.

"Hey, guys… I'm sorry if I pinched a nerve there, but we still got work to do. We have to burn this diner. The poltergeist is weak right now, but if we don't finish this, people years from now might die. Even we might be killed now if we don't hurry."

"You mean WE might get killed."

Sam pointed at him and his brother.

"Exactly. You two get out. I'll use the lighter fluid to trace the fire out of the pit and around the building."

Dean stepped forward, now in her face.

"No. I'm not leaving."

Dean crossed his arms and stood tall.

"You want to get yourself killed?"

"No. I don't want anyone else to die."

"Then let me do this!"

"No! You'll get hurt!"

"Dean! I can't die!"

There was complete silence. Dean looked at Sam, then back at Skye.

"If you're not out in five minutes, then I'm coming in to get you."

Skye thought over Dean's proposition and decided.

"Okay. Now go!"

Sam and Dean grabbed their weapons and headed out the door. Skye picked up the lighter fluid from the ground. She slowly poured the clear liquid into the already burning flames. She dragged the fire out toward the kitchen door. The closer she got to the door, the smaller amount of fluid came out. Soon she ran out all together. The amber flames followed along the trail and stopped at the door.

"Oh man!"

What was she to do now? There wasn't any lighter fluid left and she still had a whole diner to burn. The fire wouldn't spread quick enough to burn it down before the fire fighters would come and the diner would be saved. Meaning the poltergeist would live. Skye came up with an idea. She took off her gloves and placed them gently in her coat pocket. Raising her hands to the ceiling, she chanted an incantation in Latin. Only she knew what it meant. Suddenly sparks of flames shot from her fingertips. The building immediately burst into flames. The roof started coming down on her. Covering her head, she started running out. She stopped suddenly, remembering her bare hands. Her hand went into her pocket and grabbed the black leather. Slipping them on quickly, she darted for the door.