With trembling hands, Odessa ambled through the vacant parking spaces as the wintry breeze traveled between her ink-colored waves. The pounding of her temples hadn't subsided from the previous case. There was a rugged, vague scar vanishing from the edge of her hairline, and swift movements often had Odessa become abruptly light-headed. Though the immense discomfort was distracting and unpleasant, she knew her distress was inevitably fading. She groaned softly as she craned her neck too quickly. She hadn't remembered much from the Winchester's family home. Odessa could recall the burning figure as she grasped Sari, Jenny's daughter, and being forcefully tossed against the picture frame. The remainder of the night was darkness. 

            She remembered awakening with an unbearable tenderness and torment expanding from her skull to her chin. Her blurred vision distorted her perception, unlike her sense of touch which was disordered as Dean delicately caressed Odessa's scalp with such precision she wasn't aware he was capable of. Her cheek was pressed against the fabric of Dean's jeans and she laid in a fetal position in the backseat of the Impala. She groaned as she attempted to stir around, and sighed heavily as the dazzling headlights of other vehicles illuminated Dean's face. She remembered his wavering voice as he attempted to explain the sighting of his passed mother. She understood the topic was troublesome, and his facial expression displayed his struggle of speaking, so Odessa merely suggested they speak of something lively.

            Odessa, fortunately, hadn't remembered Dean's roaming eyes as they flickered from each feature on her side profile. Perhaps the nerves induced his shaking hands, and the rapid thumping of his heart as Odessa's eyes involuntarily fluttered closed. Yes, the disturbance of his sensibilities provoked his deviating behavior. Odessa also didn't remember Dean clutch her firmly as he eased his ailing, gingerly settling her body atop the duvets of the motel bed. Awakening with an atrocious feeling of her weakened state, she unsteadily pushed herself off the comforter with hushed grunt. Peering over her shoulder, she glimpsed towards the dormant brothers, whose breathing was quite loud, and chuckled at their snoring figures. 

            Sipping the lukewarm coffee, Odessa shivered in satisfaction as the vigorous beverage danced across her tongue. Coming to the conclusion she required some form of caffeine to restore her decreased vitality, and considering she woke from her slumber before Sam and Dean, Odessa clandestinely ordered coffee from the telephone by her bedframe. Walking to the main office was certainly an unpleasant experience as each breeze disheveled and tangled her hair. Returning with the scorching glass mugs was discomforting on her forearm's skin as she placed the mug between her arm and breasts, attempting to walk as slow as possible to keep the beverage from spilling.

            When she returned, both Sam and Dean were waking from their slumber and buttoning their flannels. They must've sensed her departure from the room. Odessa offered their mugs with a radiant grin as they stopped their bickering momentarily to accept her offer and answer the ringing phone. Odessa perched herself on the table where Dean once was and furrowed her brows together as he scrutinized the screen of his phone, scoffing softly. "I don't believe it." He said with a minuscule smile forming. Odessa sipped her coffee once more, crossing her ankles on the edge of the table, wary of their father's journal. "What?" Sam asked, seemingly baffled with the sudden alteration in behavior.

            Dean, the small grin still plastered on his mouth, sat atop the creaky mattress. "It's a text message," Odessa restrained herself from remarking sarcastically and allowed him to continue. "It's coordinates." He swiftly grasped Sam's laptop and began typing speedily. Sam stood behind him and watched intently as Dean typed the coordinates with ease. The situation wasn't entirely making sense to Odessa. Their father didn't wish to be found, evidently, and his lack communication was demonstrating he didn't have an interest of speaking with them either. So, aimlessly texting coordinates was his way of transmission? Odessa scoffed reticently, "So, you think it's your father messaging you?" She questioned, examining the leather of her heeled-boots with keen interest.

            His verdant eyes remained on the screen of the device as he responded gruffly. "He's given us coordinates before." Odessa refrained from scoffing again and lazily glimpsed in Sam's direction. She raised the rim of the mug to her lips, only to be greeted by an empty glass. How had she not noticed the lack of euphoria as she continually savored the beverage? She inhaled sharply as she abruptly stood, ignoring the intense wobbly sensation as she ambled towards the nightstand and placed the empty mug there. "The man can barely work a toaster, Dean." Odessa chuckled as she pivoted to face them. 

            Dean craned his neck in Sam's direction with a befuddled expression. "Sam, this is good news. It means he's okay—or alive." Odessa quirked her eyebrow as she hastily snatched Sam's untouched coffee mug and sipped the intense, black coffee with distaste. Sam pursed his lips into a thin line and sent her a blank look, to which she responded with an innocent smile and a half-shrug. "Does this mysterious number have a caller-ID?" She asked, her breath reflecting off the top-layer of the coffee. Dean shook his head, his eyes fixated on the illuminated screen, stating the number was unknown. If there father had shaken his arrogance off and desired to speak with Dean, why not message him from his actual phone? Though, Odessa supposed if they knew how, Sam and Dean could possibly track the number.

            Odessa frowned as she placed the mug on the table. "Like that's not strange or anything," She muttered as she fiddled with her fingers. "Where do these coordinates point?" Dean responded, saying the location was Rockford, Illinois, claiming this had been interesting. Odessa didn't know how Illinois was in any form 'interesting'. Sam rested both his hands on atop his hipbones. "Okay, and that's interesting how?" He questioned, unintentionally voicing Odessa's secluded thoughts. The young Guardian chortled at the obvious sass in the youngest Winchester. 

            "I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this," He replies as he positioned the screen in Sam's direction. "This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, and blows his brains out. Earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum." Odessa's brows knitted and she nibbled on lower lip, eyes briefly widening as Dean finished speaking. She had no intention of visiting an Asylum, abandoned or open. 

            Sam inched backwards. "Okay, I'm not following. What does this have to do with us?"  

            As Dean flipped through his father's journal, Odessa returned her attention to the leather fabric of her heeled-boots, gazing intently at the embroidered designs with adoration. A variety of people and Guardians repeatedly questioned how she was capable of completing assigned missions with her six-inch shoes. "Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let's see," Odessa looked in Sam and Dean's direction, no longer finding interest in her apparel. "Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths—until last week, at least. I think this is where he wants us to go." 

            Sam scoffed as he raised his eyebrows as he abruptly stood from his chair, raking his lengthy fingers through his shaggy hair. "This is a job," Sam muttered, "Dad wants us to work a job." Odessa frowned as she sympathized Sam.

            She supposed if her father mysteriously disappeared and only communicated through cryptic messages and coordinates, she'd be upset as well. Their father's message wasn't an explanation, or a paragraph to restore their reassurance, the message was guidance to find a job. "Maybe we'll meet up with him. Maybe he's there." 

            Odessa seriously doubted their father was patiently waiting at the asylum. "There is a possibility he isn't there," She said, hating to sound like the pessimist. "He could be sending you guys there yourselves." Dean seemed offended Odessa suggested the idea. 

            Dean's eyes temporarily returned back to the dimming screen as she closed their father's journal. "Who cares? If he wants us there, it's good enough for me." He responded, shutting the laptop, walking to his bed. Sam spoke with flailing arms, "This doesn't strike you as weird? The texting, the coordinates?" Odessa refrained from agreeing aloud, seeming as Dean's temper was was gradually rising. 

           "Sam. Dad's telling us to go somewhere. We're going." And before Odessa could pout and protest, Dean finalized the conversation by turning his back to them.

<<>>

            Odessa grunted as the bottom of her leather boots collided with the asphalt in a balletic manner. She glimpsed down at her palms, red streaks from the gate's metal ridges tarnished her skin. She jaunted alongside Sam and Dean as they casually entered the abandoned asylum. She examined her surroundings and shuddered as the appearance of the room was baffling. An array of graffiti was plastered on the crumbling walls, and multiple empty beer bottles were scattered across the floor. Several papers and other items were spread throughout the concrete. Sam unexpectedly spoke, shattering the newfound silence. "So, apparently, the cops chased the kids here," He said, inhaling deeply as he paused, coming to a halt and jutting his index finger towards a doorway. "Into the South Wing." 

            The Guardian swallowed the forming lump in her throat as she readjusted her leather jacket, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Despite the thrill-seeking anticipation and the blood coursing through her veins, Odessa was quite the chicken when it came to abandoned hospitals and other places. "South Wing, huh? Wait a second," Dean mumbled, clutching his father's journal and flipped through the pages again. "1972—three kids broke into the South Wing. Only one survived. The way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place."

            Odessa began fiddling with her whip, the frigid gold encircled her forearm and by some means the action brought comfort. "The South Wing sounds like the beacon of all this." She muttered, glancing towards Sam and Dean with an evident discomfort. 

            "Yeah, but if kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths." Dean questioned rhetorically, returning to the journal. Odessa folded her arms across her chest and licked her lips. 

            "It looks like the doors are usually chained. They could've been chained up for years." Sam stated, gripping the rusted chains. 

            Dean stepped forward as he stopped reading the pages. "Yeah, to keep people out," He says, awareness plastering his expression. "Or to keep something in." Sam pressed his fingers against the door, the ominous creaking of the hinges created an unsettling feeling in Odessa's abdomen. She reluctantly entered the hallway after Sam and Dean, firmly grasping the dagger secured in her holster. As they paraded through the corridor, the eldest Winchester spoke. "Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joe." Odessa snickered.

            "Dude, enough." Sam declared, seemingly bothered and provoked from Dean's teasing. Odessa peered at the molded wallpaper, tarnished flooring, and dusted furniture that was placed all throughout the place. 

            "I'm being serious. You've got to be careful, alright? Ghosts are attracted to that E.S.P. thing you've got going on." 

            Odessa's grasp on the handle of her dagger hadn't lessened as the brother's bickering continued. She couldn't help but notice the pounding on her temple had subsided and her wobbly legs were far more steady. "Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic? Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?" Odessa averted her attention from the handle and chuckled, roughly pushing Dean forward, who only snickered. 

<<>>

            The stench of mold and other unknown conditions suffused Odessa's nose as they re-entered the abandoned asylum with updated knowledge of the building. Sam's attendance with a psychiatrist, whose father was the Chief of Staff, and he renovated the information about the South Wing. She wasn't sure why Dean suggested they return at nightfall, Odessa was sure he was out of his mind, but here she was. "There's probably multiple spirits out and about." Dean said after Sam informed them the corridor was orbing.

            Odessa beamed her flashlight in the direction of ceiling, grimacing in distaste. "So, if these undiscovered bodies are causing the haunting, we seriously need to find and burn them." She said, anxiously readjusting her leather jacket. 

            "The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed-off spirit is a pissed-off spirit of a psycho killer." Dean said, his EMF meter beeping erratically. Odessa glared sternly at the back of Dean's head, uncomfortable with knowing there was a psychotic ghost roaming the halls. They continued strolling sluggishly and Odessa shrieked as a silhouette of a male figure hastily passed from behind. She flashed the ray of light eccentrically, clamping her dagger's handle solidly. Sam and Dean review the woman questioningly.

            Coughing awkwardly, Odessa chooses to ignore the alteration of behavior and shuffles forward, temporarily avoiding her dread. They continue forward and she inspected the cluttered space, beaming her flashlight over the torn bed sheets and fragments of what appeared to be rotting bones. Grimacing, she gagged silently, clutching her mouth to muffle the sounds. Flinching at Sam's abrupt gasping, she pivoted and faced him. "Dean," He shouted, the frail and bloodied woman reached to grab his shoulders. "Essie, shotgun!" Odessa pulled the dagger from her holster and hastily tossed the blade, the sharp edge slicing through the atmosphere and through the apparition's mystical figure. The ghost disappeared with an odd noise, fading from sight. The dagger embedded itself on the wall and Odessa sighed heavily, as well as Sam and Dean.

            "That was weird," Sam breathed, Dean replying as he eyed Odessa who removed the blade from the molded wall. "It was weird that she didn't attack me." 

            Snorting, Odessa stuffed her dagger back into her holster. "Don't tell me I saved your life for nothing." Sam resumed to argue the woman hadn't injured him, nor had even tried, and questioned the motives of the spirit. Odessa shrugged nonchalantly, halting as whimpering echoed through the ambiance. The terror returned, blossoming from the depths of her chest to the abyss of her abdomen. Sam pressed his flashlight on and aimed in the direction of slashed bed. Dean raised his double-barreled shotgun, targeting the tangled heap of blonde hair. Odessa's fingertips grazed the handle of her dagger, attempting to silence the clicking of her heels.

            Sam effortlessly tossed the metal bedframe to the side, the plate of the frame scrapped against the concrete. The attractive blonde shrieked and cowered away from the beaming light. "It's alright," Dean declared as Sam pressed his flashlight off. "We're not going to hurt you. It's okay. What's your name?" 

            The woman stood apprehensively, shaking eccentrically. "Katherine. Kat." She said, breathing heavily.

            Odessa returned her palm back on her side. "You're safe, I'm Odessa, Essie now," She informed, jutting her index finger on herself before pointing to the Winchesters. "And this is Sam and Dean. Why the hell are you here?" 

            "Um, my boyfriend, Gavin," She began, interrupted by Dean asking if her boyfriend was still roaming the corridors. "Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts. I thought it was all just—you know, pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and—" She said, her tone rising as she crossed her arms. 

            Odessa restrained the vigorous temptation to thrust her dagger's edge through her heart. She'd never comprehend why a mundane would assume visiting an abandoned asylum was intriguing or appealing. As Katherine explained she wasn't leaving her boyfriend Gavin alone, Odessa scoffed and spoke with a sharpened tone. "Katherine, this isn't some game," She said, "If you die, that's like game over without the reset button." 

            Sniffling, she remained determined on searching for her boyfriend. "That's why I've got to find him."

            "All right, I guess we're gonna split up, then. Let's go." Odessa pursed her lips, sighing sharply as Dean suggested the idea. Annoyance bubbled in her stomach as the blonde trailed behind the eldest brother. 

<<>>

            Exasperation thrived throughout Odessa's physique as she trudged through the accumulated masses of garbage. Though she hadn't expressed her terror and apprehension on this case, she bothered with the suggestion of sauntering through the corridors with no form of defense except her dagger. Odessa was certainly capable of protecting herself, assurance was welcomed. She mumbled a string of incoherent curse words as she entered a particular room, furrowing her eyebrows as, who she assumed was Gavin, sprawled on the floor. Hesitantly inching near his unconscious body, she inhaled piercingly as he kicked his forearm with her toes. "Gavin," She whispered, nudging his arm harder. "Wake the fuck up." 

            As if on cue, Gavin's eyes fluttered open and he gasped noisily as he lurched forwards. "Who are you?" He questioned, his chest heaving up and down. 

            Odessa inclined her head, quirking an eyebrow. "Odessa, but you can call me Essie," She states as an unduly grin forms. "My friends and I found your girlfriend." Extending her arm, Gavin accepts her offer and he is pulled to his feet. 

            "Kat? Is she all right?"

            Odessa half-shrugged, "Excluding the psychiatric trauma, she'll be fine," She dismissed the conversation with wave of her gloved-hand. Noticing wide-eyed expression from Gavin, she sighed. "She's worried about you. Speaking of, you okay?" His face scrunched together as he clutched his temple, breathing profoundly. 

            "I was running and I think I fell." 

            Crossing her arms, she furrowed her brows. "What were you running from," Gavin proceeded to explain the woman with a mangled face chased him and kissed him, to which Odessa shook her head, attempting to process the information. "But did this deranged woman harm you physically?" He scoffed. "She kissed me. I'm scarred for life." 

            Chuckling, Odessa gently patted his shoulder, grinning widely. "Trust me, sweetheart, things could've been much worse. Remember anything else?" The moonlight illuminated Gavin's face, allowing a better view. He was pale, very few moles scattered on his skin, and his shaggy hair partially reminded Odessa of Sam. His chocolate-shaded eyes encircled the Guardian's facial features. He wasn't entirely bad-looking, but Gavin must've been his late teens. "Actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear." Odessa's eyes widened. 

            "What'd she say?" 

            Gavin shrugged, barely noticeable, as he replied. "I don't know. I ran like hell."

            Motioning for him to follow, Odessa fastened her pace as she heard a distinct screech echo the corridors. Metal colliding with metal bounced off the walls and Odessa transformed into a full-fledged sprint, ignoring the throbbing from her ankles. She was greeted with Sam shouting directions for Kat as Dean used a crowbar on the metal door. Gavin cried her name, standing close behind Sam and Dean. The door eventually opened, and Katherine informed the spirit whispered in her ear: 137. In sync, Odessa, Sam, and Dean said room number. 

            Dean instructed Sam escort Katherine and Gavin to leave this godforsaken place, and demanded Odessa to accompany him search for room 137. 

<<>> 

            Odessa groaned as the familiar throbbing pulsated from her temples, she mentally scolded herself for performing such intense movements. She attempted to ignore the ache as she angled the beam towards the bundles of shredded papers. Perhaps her pace delayed from Dean's, or he managed to detect her groans, but Dean halted and flashed the confined ray on her. "Essie," His voice was gravelly as he tenderly caressed her shoulder blades. "Hey, what's wrong?" His hands traveled from her shoulders to her cheeks. His thumb nuzzled just above her chin as worry coated his eyes. Odessa gulped as the agony momentarily subsided. She dismissed the conversation, waving her hand. She didn't need to be cared for. What she needed was to find whatever made room 137 special, and get Gavin and Katherine out of here.

            "I'm fine," She lied, jaunting towards the other side of the room. "Focus on what's important." Dean briefly glared at the emptiness in front of him, disturbed with Essie's view on herself; unimportant. He recollected his composure and ambled towards a trash can with files inside. Fingers searching through the papers, he tossed them behind them, deciding they were useless. His eyes scanned the wall in front of him, noticing the indent of the dry wall, Dean tugged at the plaster and smiled as he noticed a brief case concealed there. "This is why I get paid the big bucks."

            Odessa is hastily by his side as he flips through the pages. "Sweetheart, you don't get paid at all." Her voice trails off as she regards the drawings of indecipherable images and paragraphs. 

            "This guy seems like a total asshole."

<<>>

            The hunter and Guardian ambled through the corridors with placid atmosphere among them both. They hadn't spoken, Dean coming to the conclusion Essie was experiencing an agony that hadn't dwindled in the slightest. Odessa released another moan from the dire circumstances. Dean halted instantaneously as she staggered backwards. He gripped her shoulder blades once more and stabilized Odessa. "I'm fine," She muttered through clenched teeth, feebly pushing Dean's arms away. "I'll be fine." She knew the migraine was only temporary, and she'd be healthy in a day or two. Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Odessa's harsh glare silenced him quickly.

            They continued to rush through the passageways of the asylum and Dean frequently peered over his should to confirm Odessa was behind him. Dean angled his body to turn but hastily retreated and embraced Essie firmly as he squatted to the floor. The double-barreled shotgun blasted and nearly grazed his face. Pieces of the wooden walls ricocheted and Odessa moaned as the sudden movements intensified her aching. Dean mumbled something as he stood, but she couldn't decipher exactly what. He extended his arm and she willingly accepted, pulling herself upwards. "What are you still doing here? Where's Sam?" Dean interrogated throatily. 

            Gavin's arms flailed around as he spoke, perhaps from the adrenaline. "He went to the basement. You called him." Odessa scrunched her brows together, frowning. Memories flashed as she gripped her upper-arms, leering at Dean. She stood beside him the entire time, shoulders grazing and intent gazes as Dean read aloud the horrible experiments Ellicott performed on his patients. 

            Inching backwards, Odessa spoke aloud. "Dean never called Sam." She murmured, ill-natured. Dean glints down at her, eyes wide with fear. 

            "His cellphone rang. He said it was you." Katherine replied.

            "Basement, huh? All right," He said, reaching and grabbing a spare weapon, tucking it securely in his waistband. "Watch yourselves. And watch out for me." He tugged at Odessa's wrist and she trails him as they head for the basement. Soon enough, they found Sam and his behavior had altered. Dean hadn't noticed, mainly because he was busy rambling and explaining his discovery, but Odessa had as Dean guided her into an empty room. Dean had his interest piqued, craning his neck. "You hear that," He muttered, crouching and it is then Odessa noticed the minuscule beam of light creeping through a crack. "There's a door here." 

             Odessa stepped forward, stopping as she noticed Sam aim the shotgun his way. "Dean," Sam uttered, wiping the blood from his nose. "Step back from the door." His tone was threatening, almost as if he wouldn't hesitate to press the trigger. Odessa was swiftly thinking of possible motives, a plan to not permanently harm Sam, and get Dean to safety. 

            Hesitantly, Odessa spoke, "Sam, put the gun down. This isn't you." Sam pivoted to face Essie, raising his eyebrow. There was a placid, blank glare in his eyes and Odessa almost shuddered from the intensity of it. "Is that an order?" He asked disrespectfully, an attitude lingering in the air. 

            "Bitch, it might be." She retaliated. 

            "Ignore her, it's more of a friendly request."

            Sam raised the gun higher, "'Cause I'm pretty tired of taking both your orders," Sam's nose dripped with crimson as Dean responded, claiming Ellicott did something to him, "For once in your life, shut your mouth."

            Dean continued to taunt Sam, informing that the weapon wasn't going to kill him. His smug grin demolished as Sam pressed the trigger and Dean went flying backwards on the crumbling wall. Odessa gasped and lurched forward before Sam could finish his sentence. She swiftly punched his jaw and kicked the back of his knee, resulting with him kneeling to the floor. Odessa reached for her dagger, but is rudely interrupted as Sam aims the gun and shoots her. 

            Odessa gasped as she collided with floor and groaned loudly as the pain on her abdomen intensified. She was mildly bleeding, nothing serious, but she was having trouble catching her breath. She managed to catch Dean shouting her name, barely discernible from the ringing in her ears. Their voices are muffled and Odessa switched to lay on her side. She doesn't have time to wallow in her pain as she peers over and notices Sam is now holding an actual gun. She pushes herself up and bites her lip to contain the whimper from escaping her mouth. As she inches nearer, she realizes she won't make it in time. Her whip unraveled and she extended her arm, the golden snake encircling Sam's wrist just after the empty gun clicks.

            Dean takes this as a chance and punches Sam, then punching him again, successfully knocking him unconscious. He then searched for the bones, lighting them, and also succeeds the mission. 

(A/N: Honestly, this took me a whole week to write this episode, and I'm so glad I finished. AND ARE YOU SERIOUS? 1.5K READS ON THIS?! I CAN ASSURE YOU THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE SO MUCH BETTER AND I'LL EVEN ADD A BIT OF ODESSA AND DEAN IN THERE. THANK YOU SO MUCH AND HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT!)