Forgotten No More (A Rachel Winchester fic)
Rachel wished she could give Dean a charm, an amulet to fix this current torment he was suffering. Instead, she'd watched him sleep, her heart aching for him. He didn't deserve this, not by a long shot. Her thoughts turned to Chuck's prophesy, to all the known and unknown dangers before them. She was no good like this. She had to repair the damage dealt by Hecate. Laying a gentle kiss on his forehead, she stole away outside, finding her way on the grounds to the aviary. It was quiet here. And safe. Nothing to explode if she lost control.
She stood in the chill air, wrapped in a new jacket and a scarf knitted by her mother, looking down at her hands. She idly turned the gold band around her left ring finger - Mary's ring. Her ring. She had to do this, for Dean, for herself, for her kids. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and let her mind relax. When she'd first developed her magic, no one knew what to do with her, how to teach her control. Ley witches were rare. So she'd learned it herself, through a series of very painful lessons. It had been a long time since she'd first felt the sting of an uncontrolled line, but dammit, she'd done it as a kid. She could do it now.
The line hit her with a fiery snarl, ripping its way through her mind in a torrent of electric heat. Rachel grimaced, grinding her teeth as she wrestled for control, pushing at the line, trying to stem its flow. A small groan passed her lips as she fought to build out the channels in her mind, the ones that Hecate had erased with a thought. Her limbs began to tremble from the exertion, her psyche and soul writhing under the white-hot onslaught. The line surged, and Rachel lost control. The energy whipped through her like a living thing, causing her to cry out. She dropped the line as it drove her to her knees. She fell forward onto her hands, panting. Her mind still reeled, but for a different reason.
Images flooded through her. A woman with dark brown hair and stormy eyes. Laughter. Embraces and a feeling of kinship. Cooking in the kitchen of an old Victorian house that smelled like magic and books.
The spell broke under the force of the ley energy tearing through her mind, and suddenly, Rachel remembered. Her magic was still fucked up, but she remembered.
