All his life, Dean has dreamed of fire. Not that surprising really when you consider the way his mother died. He should have developed a fear, if not terror of fire, having lost his home, mother and world in one night. Instead, Dean found a great comfort in his dreams of fire that covered everything, was everything.

As he grew older fire became a central to his life, starting with the fire that claimed his mother and family home, to the fires they used in the course of their work. He never thought to closely question that he dreamed of fire. It made sense when he actually thought about it, so it just became one of the corner stones of his life. Like that Dad would always hunt, Sammy was his to guard, and that there was always, always something out there hurting people and needed to be stopped.

After Sam left Dean's dreams, that had tapered off to once every few weeks over the last few years, suddenly came almost every night. Dean's pyromaniac tendencies also started to grow as well. He would often find himself sitting alone and burning old newspapers and magazines just thinking of nothing, his mind wonderfully blank as he stared enthralled at the flickering flames.

He knew Sam knew he was a pyromaniac, having spent so much time together it was impossible to hide. Sam, before he had left, had called it "Dean's meditating", and it was in a way. John... John he honestly didn't know if he had ever noticed that odd habit of his oldest son's. It wasn't like he did it all that often when John was around anyway. He was in no way an arsonist beyond what their hunts called for though.

That was all work and stress and adrenaline. He was still fascinated by the fire, but he didn't find it soothing like when it was just him, a candle or a small fire and himself wonderfully distant from the stresses of his life.

When he brought Sam back to the job his dreams and pyromania continued at the pace they had set while Sam was gone, but again he figured that was to be expected. Jessica's death was... well to be frank, a kick in the teeth.

Dean really should have figured there was something more to it considering that coincidence just doesn't happen in their lives. Winchesters were just not normal by anyone's standards, and they knew that.

Dean was twenty-six years old, in the latest of a depressingly long string of hotel rooms reunited with his brother and father for the first time in years when he was reminded rather forcefully of why you should never ignore reoccurring dreams, especially if you're a hunter.

As he was attacked by the Daeva again and watched as it went after the father he hadn't seen and had been worrying over for months and his brother who was finally getting back into the swing of things. Growling in anger Dean tried to do something, anything to help and was surprised as he felt something spark, then the world was consumed by blue fire. Or at least he thought it was until he heard the Daeva's scream in pain.

Blinking his eyes clear at the sudden light as he sat up was shocked to find them on fire, but seeing an opportunity he grabbed Sam and his Dad and got out of there. They had just made it to the car as he slipped into unfortunately familiar darkness.

Dean sat huddled under every blanket they had on top of the second bed inside the new hotel room shivering like he had hypothermia as Sam sat in front of him cleaning the cuts on his face.

"You okay?" Sam asked quietly as he rinsed off the washcloth.

"No!" Dean gritted out through clenched teeth as he tried not to let them chatter. "We almost died, then that funky blue fire saved us, I passed out, and now I'm freezing!" Dean snapped.

"Yeah, about that. Do you know what happened?" Sam asked as he grabbed Dean's jaw to move his head to a better angle.

"No!" Dean growled before pausing.

"What?" Sam asked pausing and pulling back slightly when he saw is older brother's suddenly thoughtful look.

"It's nothing... I just felt something..." Dean paused as his body shivered violently again. "...spark is all."

"'Spark'? 'Spark' how?" Sam questioned as he went back to cleaning Dean's face.

Dean was quiet as he thought if over trying to figure out what happened as well as how to put it into words. "Where's Dad?" Dean asked in a seemingly sudden shift in topic.

Sam smiled slightly realizing that from an outsider's point of view - that he had only gotten after leaving for four years - it would seem like Dean was changing the subject. But Sam knew that it was actually Dean asking for important information as he thought over the problem.

"Getting his truck and checking out the hotel to see what happened." Sam frowned as he studied the now cleaned cuts on Dean's face. "I think you're going to need a couple stitches. Let me get a better light and make sure." Getting up Sam went over to the duffle sitting on the other bed and dug around in it briefly for the flashlight in it.

"Do you know why I'm so cold?" Dean asked worried. "This isn't normal."

"I would say shock if it was anyone else." Sam said as he grabbed Dean's jaw again. "Close your eyes." Flicking on the flashlight and shining it on the cuts he inspected them closely as he continued. "Maybe the Daeva's are the cause, except Dad and I aren't having the same symptoms. Or maybe it has something to do with that 'funky blue fire'." Sam flicked off the flashlight and let go of Dean's face. "You're lucky, no stitches this time, just butterfly bandages."

Dean frowned thoughtfully before wincing as he pulled on the cuts. "Maybe. Are you sure there's no more blankets?"

Sam laughed and shook his head as he carefully applied the bandages to the cuts. "Yeah I'm sure. I even took the ones out of the car. Let me see one of your hands."

Dean carefully untangled one of his blankets and pressed one shaking, ice cold hand against Sam's neck causing him to yelp in surprise.

"Crap. Your hand's freezing. No wonder you're cold. Look, be careful while I get you something hot to drink okay?" Sam said as he handed Dean one of the guns.

"Yeah, be careful yourself. I'm not going anywhere; it's actually colder out there, let alone outside." Dean started shivering violently again as he carefully pulled his arm back inside the cocoon of blankets after making sure the safety was on.

"Alright, I'll be back soon." Sam gave the huddled Dean one last look before leaving the hotel room.

"Right," Dean muttered. "I'll just stay here and try not to mysteriously freeze to death then."

Sam eyed his brother worriedly as his dad was taking a shower. Dean was looking better after a cup of coffee and a hot meal Sam had gotten had managed to stop shivering mostly. He was still bundled up and tense, but he seemed to be doing better.

Sam frowned as Dean pressed his lips tightly together and the stress lines around his eyes deepened slightly at the information on Daeva's he was reading again. "Anything new?"

"No." Dean threw down the book on the bed beside him. "Nothing about Daeva's and blue fire."

Sam sighed tiredly as he dug through Dean's duffle bag, "Look, why don't you meditate?"

"Sam..." Dean drawled slowly, "This isn't the time."

"No, you'll be more relaxed afterwards. It'll only help and you know it." Sam said walking over to Dean.

"Sammy..." Dean started only to stop when Sam plunked a large candle on the bedside table next to Dean.

"Meditate. You need to." Sam ordered. "I'll keep a look out okay?"

Dean gave Sam a long measured look before sighing and nodding. "Lighter?"

"Here. Unwind a little okay? Before you snap and try to gnaw someone's arm off again."

"That was only once, and it got him to let go." Dean said, slight amusement entering his face. Shaking his head and muttering about, "Pushy bitches." Dean shifted on the bed until he faced the candle and lit it.

John came out of the bathroom five minutes later to find his youngest son watching the news, and his bundled up eldest staring at a lit candle with a focused intensity.

"Hey Dad." Sam said drawing his gaze away from Dean.

"Sam. What's he doing?" John asked carefully, not wanting to provoke a fight... at least not until he had a better idea of what was going on.

"Meditating. Don't worry about it. He needs to unwind and let some thoughts drift a little." Sam explained. "He said he felt a 'spark' in the hotel room, but he doesn't know what that means. This'll probably help him think without thinking."

"'Spark'? Like pyrokinesis?" John asked stepping forward finally to finish getting dressed.

"No, not that he said. Besides have you ever heard of any pyrokinetic with blue fire that only seemed to hurt demons?" Sam asked actually more curious than sarcastic for once.

"This is a first. I'm going to have to ask around though." John thoughtfully reached for his phone and started going through various contacts asking for any information they had on blue fire that burned demons.

A Cleanser is an idea I had a couple years ago. A Cleanser is someone that has a very, very rare ability. Cleansing is pretty much burning off the psychic and/or magical aura on or around something and in essence purifying it. To do that you need a very specific mix of talents.

In comparison to the psychic to normal person ratio, the Cleanser to psychic ratio is actually a larger gap. It's not just being psychic or magically talented; it's being both in a very specific mix. It's - to put it bluntly - a "bit o' this, bit o' that" talent.

To start with one of the keystone abilities to make a Cleanser (pretty much one that the person has to have) is pyrokinesis. Not a lot, just enough to give them a spark so they can have a feel for starting fires, and controlling them. The other keystone talents are empathy, aura seeing or feeling of a decent strength, telemetry (which is getting a feel and sometimes visions from touching objects), and magical ability with a strong fire affinity. Other psychic talents are nice to have for a Cleanser but not a must. Nice - helpful even - but not really necessary.

Anyway when you get the proper mix of abilities you get someone who will be able to make psychic fire. And unlike physical fire, water won't quench it because the fire's not on the physical plane, but rather on the spiritual or astral plane. It will only burn so long as it has fuel, so as long as the object burning has a mystical or psychic aura it will burn. Leaving the object clean or any aura, taint, or energy; in essence purified.

Now like any pyrokinetic of decent ability the Cleanser can control or put out the fire at will - with practice. Cleansers are pretty much always the result of the mixing of bloodlines. Pretty much one line having magical talent and another psychic and mix them and you have a likelihood of somewhere down the line of a Cleanser being born if you're lucky. However it has to be the right talent and ability mixing to make a Cleanser - thus them being obscenely rare.

Now here's where things get kinda complicated: Cleansers being what they are, are not only extremely dangerous to supernatural creatures, they're also highly prized. To get a Cleanser on your side is an extreme boon, however to make one an enemy is something to be feared. Demons and other supernatural creatures that are made up completely or mostly of mystical or psychic energy greatly fear and covet them.

Mostly because they're not only dangerous to them, but the very fact being what their ability is makes them deadly to most supernatural creatures. And something that is not used to feeling fear towards humans will always try to destroy that fear if they can't have it.

And Cleansers don't even have to just kill or destroy what they're purifying. Cleansers with enough control and power can do a lot more. Cut the ties of contracts, burn off demonic (or angelic for that matter) taint, most everything a demon does - or works on a - Cleansers can destroy by burning it with their psychic fire and leaving nothing but the psychic equivalent to ash behind.

Curses and blessings alike can work on a Cleanser so long as they never use the fire on themselves, however if they do they can remove just about anything from themselves except their own ability because they themselves are the core of the fire, so nothing will burn hotter or purer for them.

This also leads to the death gift of a Cleanser. This is when a Cleanser gives up their life taking out something that they would normally not be able to do, using their entire being to purify it.

Dean is a Cleanser; and a strong one at that. Now Dean among the talents he has that make up his ability has just enough precognition to be able to have subconsciously known that if he got found out by what they're hunting that he will be in very deep shit. So Dean found ways to hide and burn off the energy. His pyromania, putting enough energy in the fires from whatever he's burning at the time to make it work a bit better, and also using Sam to camouflage himself.

And it worked very well. However when he got put into a situation where not only he himself, but his brother and dad would have been killed by demons with no physical bodies he lashed out the only way he could and hurt them. This drained him a great deal more than he was used to, having before then only having used tiny sips of his power, so his body went into shock, but it did however take care of the problem, and once the fire started it would burn until it ran out of fuel (the demons were dead) or it got put out (with the magical equivalent of water, pretty much something that nullifies psychic and magical ability)

Now because he's outed himself and he's a hunter that does it for the right reason (to help people) he has made his way onto the demon's ten most wanted list. They might try once, maybe twice to get him to join them, but after that they'll being trying their damndest to off him. Because Cleansers are not stuck with just expelling a demon from a vessel and sending it back to hell, no they can actually kill them. A walking, thinking, and reasoning weapon.

Also I would like to note that Dean's actual normal pyrokinetic ability is about enough to light a candle with a lot of effort and an extreme headache afterwards. He's actually heaver on the empathy and magical talent end of things. As well as having, as I mentioned, very slight precognition, he gets the equivalent of subconscious hunches with the talent. Though he does get normal hunches, they almost never have anything to do with precognition and more to do with good instincts.