Update number two of two for the day.

~Christianne

Nikki POV

I had taken my sweet time getting out of town, and stopped at a pretzel stand. I was biting in the wax paper wrapped, cinnamon-sugar covered doughy pretzel as I opened my passenger door.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I screamed, and sent cinnamon sugar all over my shirt and car.

"Jesus!" I yelled, looking at Used-to-be-Fake-Chris who was sitting shotgun. "What is it with you and sneaking up on me?" I yelled at him, trying to brush sugar of my shirt.

"It's a hobby." He said, rolling his eyes. "Why isn't our car pointed towards where the Winchesters are fighting the witches slash demons?"

"Because Samuel Winchester is a stubborn little shit that can't seem to determine that demons are evil and I am good." I snapped, taking a defiant bite of my pretzel.

Used-to-be-Fake-Chris just blinked at me. "You know, I'm sensing a little bit'a hostility here." He said slowly, gesturing to my whole body with one hand (his fingers wiggling as he did so).

"Jee, 'ya think?" I snapped sarcastically.

"Just go, alright?" He groaned, slouching in his seat.

"Why?" I demanded.

He didn't say anything.

"I'll give you some of my pretzel." I offered in a sing-song voice, waving it in front of his face.

He seemed to think about it before he ripped a piece off and popped it in his mouth. "Look, Nik, you gotta get back there. As much as you'll hate to hear it, the demon was right; they can't handle this on their own."

I frowned and ripped a piece off the pretzel. "When's my birthday?" I asked him.

"I thought a smart girl like you would know that already." Used-to-be-Fake-Chris said as he stared out the window at a girl wearing a tight skirt.

"Well, the nuns had to backtrack from when they found me on the doorstep." I explained. "So…December fourth is more of an approximation."

"No, it's your real birthday," he said, still staring at the girl in the skirt, who kept dropping her keys and bending over to get them.

"I was, like, a month old," I reminded him.

"Nikki, sweetie-pie," Used-to-be-Fake-Chris said dramatically, swinging his head over to look at me. "Have I ever lied to you?"

I frowned. "No."

"You were born on December fourth." He assured me. "Trust me, I was there."

My nose wrinkled up. "Uh...ok, ew."

"You're saying ew? How do you think I felt?" Used-to-be-Fake-Chris said with a chuckle.

I balled up the wax paper from my pretzel and tossed it in my back seat. I sighed and put my hands on the steering wheel. "If I go back, you owe me."

He just rolled his eyes at me. I moved to flip radio stations, but he grabbed my wrist, cutting off his insistence that a 'good song' was playing. His brows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he stared at his hand around my wrist.

I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip was steel.

"What are you doing?" I asked him finally.

"You gotta promise me you'll be careful," he said in a low, commanding voice. It was a very different voice than when he was teasing me.

"Yeah, ok, I promise." I said slowly, and waited for him to release my wrist. It took him a second, and he did it slowly.

"Ignore the speed limit. ASAP, you understand?" He asked, still with the low and commanding voice.

"Yeah, understood." I told him. I turned away for a second to turn the key in the ignition. As my Mustang roared to life, I turned back towards Used-to-be-Fake-Chris, but he was already gone.

I groaned and turned my car around.

I screeched to a stop in front of some suburban house at the same time Dean did.

I tried to talk to him, ask what he was doing, but he barreled right into the house without giving me a second look. I was going to run in after him, but a loud crash made me spin around and press my back to the porch wall next to the house, I put a hand on the railing to steady myself.

My hand went in something warm, wet and sticky. I made a disgusted face before a breeze wafted a smell towards my nose. It was bitter and strong, but there was a sweeter undertone to it that made my mouth water. The hand with my pistol slowly dropped to my side, and the other hand raised up.

My hand had gone in a puddle of blood. It covered my hand and dripped down my wrist.

I brought it closer to my face, inhaling deeply. The smell swirled around my brain and made me feel almost light headed.

I slowly moved my fingers, like I was going to make a fist but never curled them in all the way. The blood was starting to dry, and was thicker and sticky. I inhaled even deeper, and brought my palm to my mouth.

I knew it was just plain wrong to lick blood off my palm, especially when that blood came off a porch railing. But I really, really didn't care.

Sam and Dean, the closest thing I had left to family, needed my help, and this was slowly breaking away the restrictions on my abilities one by one. Like a jet engine ramping up, slowly getting louder and louder, the power flowing through my veins was rising with every lick of blood I took. My eyes fall shut as my berthing went from fast and shallow from adrenalin, to deep, even and slow.

My hand fell from my mouth and dropped to rest on my chest as my power stopped spiking and leveled out. I opened my eyes, and blinked a few times

My vision was starry and wavy. I could see the heat coming from mine and Dean's car engines. I could see the energy being sucked up from the lamp posts by the lightbulb and spat back out as light. I could hear the father down the block singing a lullaby to his daughter, the wife was downstairs on the phone with her mother. They were talking about how to tell the husband that she was pregnant again. I dropped my gun and reached my hand out, brushing it through the strings of atoms, energy and matter that made up oxygen.

The hand I had out stretched soon became my focus. Instead of seeing my solid hand, I saw light. Millions and millions of strings as thin as a hair woven together glowed inside my hand. The light was bright and pure; it purified everything it came into contact with. I looked down at my other hand; it was made of the same strings of light, and the blood on it was the darkest black I'd ever seen. Black smoke was rising from my hand, the blood was slowly being disintegrated and completely destroyed.

I don't know how long I basked into the power I felt. It could have been hours, it could have been less than a second. The jet engine inside me began to rev again, and I stared down at my hands, watching the strings of light disappear. I couldn't see the heat from the engines or the energy of the lamp posts anymore, and the husband and wife (who had been celebrating their new baby) had also disappeared.

When my sight and senses had gone back to normal, I took one deep breath.

I left my gun on the porch, and slowly walked in to the house.

My hand trailed over the doorway, and I spun once on the toe of my Converse once I stepped over the welcome mat. Two of my fingers walked along the banister as I gracefully walked down the hall.

I could hear the most beautiful music. It was like thousands of voices in my head singing a powerful song. It made my heart beat steadily while my adrenalin remained at outrageously high levels. My fingers had walked up the banister until my hand was over my head and I couldn't reach it anymore.

They were singing a battle song.

"You were one of my best," the demon inside Tammie Fenton admitted to Ruby.

Her head snapped towards me, and she gasped. She waved a hand at Ruby, sending her flying into the TV. If I focused hard enough, I could see the demon beneath her vessel, but I wasn't paying that close attention. I was looking at a pretty water color of daisies on the back wall.

"You." The demon breathed, her eyes wide.

I looked at her once she spoke. I blinked a few times, but that was all I moved. My shoulders were relaxed, my hands down at my side and my fingers relaxed and slack.

"You-You…" The demon trailed off, in shocked awe. "They told him you were destroyed."

"Nikki." Sam hissed. I looked over at him, my curly hair bouncing as I did. "Nik, you have to get out of here."

I blinked at him.

"Turn around and run until you can't anymore." He pressed, his jaw clenched and his eyes were wide and scared. Not scared for himself, scared for me. When I still didn't respond, Sam spoke again. "It's not safe."

I gave him a small smile. I could almost feel the sparkle in my eyes. "It's going to be alright." I told him in a calm, soft voice.

"Filius Concuoivi." Tammie's vessel breathed, taking a step closer to me. I turned my head to look back at her, and she stopped walking.

"It-It's…" She trailed off again, her bottom lip trembling. "Please teach me." She begged. Sam and Dean shared confused expressions, and Ruby rolled her eyes.

"You are a disgrace." I told her. I knew it wasn't English, or any of the little Spanish I knew. But the demon in Tammie recognized it.

Her eyes widened more. "W-What?" She asked, her voice shaky.

"You're mother taught you, Astaroth," I told her, watching as her confidence dwindled. "She was the healer in your village as a little girl. You could have been beautiful."

"I-I am!" She insisted, her anger growing. "I want to be!—Teach me! Please!" She begged me.

"You wanted power that humans cannot control. You strayed from pure white magic to the evil dark." I told her. "Redemption is not easy."

"I-I'll do anything!" Astaroth, the demon inside Tammie, told me. Her voice was rougher, like she was going to cry.

"I know you will." I told her.

She smiled wide, tears brimming in her eyes. She thought that I was going to teach her.

I raised a hand. My fingers were slack, aside from my pointer and middle fingers; they were pressed together. They raised up slightly, and pulled down. Astaroth was brought to her knees. She gasped and whimpered in surprise and fear.

"P-Please," she begged me. She wasn't begging to be taught now, she was begging to be spared.

"What do you want with Sam Winchester?" I asked her. Dean and Sam's interests were perked when they heard Sam's name.

The demon on her knees didn't say anything. My hand slowly closed into a fist. Black smoke flickered in her mouth and nose making her cough. Sam and Dean fell from where they were being pinned, Ruby did too. The boys were unconscious.

I saw her reach for the demon knife a few feet from her. I threw my other hand towards her, fingers splayed and palm flat. She inhaled sharply in anger; she was paralyzed.

"She-She wants him dead!" Astaroth yelled through the smoke. I knew exactly who she was talking about.

"Thank you, Astaroth." I said calmly. "Your cooperation will not be forgotten."

She smiled, and began laughing softly; she couldn't believe it. She still thought I spared her.

My hand towards Astaroth, with my pointer and middle fingers together, turned palm up. She was taking fast, shallow breaths when she realized what I was doing.

I began pulling my hand towards myself while pulling my pointer and middle fingers to my palm; pulling the demon's black smoke from Tammie's body. I held it in the air as Tammie's dead body fell back to the floor.

I stared at the smoke, my face slack, and watched as a gold light began to devour the smoke. A small smile tugged up on my lips when it disappeared.

Ruby pushed herself up so she was leaning against the wall. "Hey," she called, getting my attention. "How much do you know?"

I raised one eyebrow; I didn't know she spoke this language.

"It is ironic; the spawn of Hell speaking the language of the children of Heaven." I said, taking one step forward. "I know everything." I added.

Ruby pushed herself up to her feet. "What are you going to do about it?"

I looked away from her, and up at the ceiling. Well, though the ceiling, at the sky. "They tell me I am not ready." I sighed. Ruby chuckled once, and I snapped my gaze back to her.

"Just because I am restrained by my family, you will not succeed." I told her. "You have my word."

Ruby snorted, and spoke in English. "Don't you have some water you need to turn into booze?"

I simply tipped my head back, and breathed out. Ruby couldn't see it, but fragments of light strings were sent into the air. Once they left my body, I fell back to the ground.

The last thing I heard was Sam yelling my name as he grabbed my shoulders.