Dean stared for a moment, still seeing the flame even though the one at her finger was out. It danced around as if alive and he got the sense it was. And it wasn't like a normal flame either. Blues and whites, strangely fearful and yet not so much to him.
"Yeah, I know you're not a demon. Trust me, I know." If she was, she would be tormenting him. Demons knew the Winchesters just by the scent of their souls, or so it seemed. Since he was a kid, he seen demons, fought them, more so now than ever.
Dean's head ached, he wasn't sure if it was from the thought of not getting out or something else. "It's like one of the family," he answered. "It's annoying to say the least." Especially since there were so many lives him and Sam could be saving not to mention his own.
"Can I ask you something," He paused, "What's the deal with the fire?"