"He's so selfish," Dean sneered, his knuckles gradually converting from his golden pigmentation to an unaccustomed pale variation as his grasp on the wheel tightened. "Always thinking about himself, doing what he wants to do." The intensity of his choleric expression has Odessa concerned for his emotional stability. Sam's absence had altered Dean's behavior immensely, and perhaps the exchanged choice of words had alienated him, and though his raucous shouting was daunting, Odessa didn't have any intention of cowering away. She pressed her lips together, leaning backwards and reclined her back against the leather interior. She understood where his hostility was deriving from, and she abstained the urge to curse and scream her grievance, but internally she knew nothing would change Sam's mind.  

            Odessa sighed softly, glancing at his clenched jaw. "Dean," She uttered, a tentative grin forming. He didn't respond, merely grunted as he continued glaring harshly at the passing trees and ominous bank of clouds.  "Dean Winchester, I am speaking to you."  She said sternly. His attention averted and he swiftly glimpsed at her with a stunned expression. Perseverance is plastered on her facial appearance and he returned his gaze on the road. She continued speaking, knowing she's gathered his attention. 

            "Look, I know Sam hurt you," She said, fiddling with the golden serpent enveloping her forearm. Dean's jaw clenched once more, his eyes blinking repeatedly as he attempted to conceal his frustration from revealing. "What he did, total dick move, but traveling to Indiana is what we need to focus on." His firm grasp on the steering wheel loosened and he apprehensively nodded, ultimately agreeing with her. She smiled pretentiously as her demeanor modified from a tense and cautious posture to an eased and softened stance. There was an outlandish sensation roaming in the atmosphere, primarily evolving from Odessa as she eagerly shuffled through Dean's mass collection of cassettes. Each is laminated with a sheer layer of dust and smudges of fingerprints. She examined one in particular, eyebrows furrowing as she mumbled the name printed. 

            Odessa faced Dean with a befuddled expression, displaying the chalky cassette. "Who's Led Zeppelin," She questioned naively, eyes glistening with curiosity. "Kind of sounds like a nightclub I've been to." She'd never seen Dean's attention been piqued and swivel his head so quickly before, she was certain he'd given himself whiplash. He snatched the cassette from her fingers and flaunted the item as if it were celestial. Dean began explaining his favoritism for the beloved rock band. He informed Odessa his favorite songs; Ramble On and Traveling Riverside Blues. Odessa observes the evident elation forming on Dean's face as he launched a conversation explaining why he favored Led Zeppelin more than the other unusual bands. 

            In merely hours, which consisted of conversation varying from pondering questions of each other's favorite movies, genre of music, foods, and other subjects Odessa couldn't name, they entered the town. She glimpsed outside the window, which was coated with droplets of fallen rain. The size of the town was remarkably minuscule, as were the buildings, and Odessa admired the crowds, or lack thereof, with unfamiliarity. Beeping damaged the tranquil ambiance, and she watched as Dean repeatedly pressed the button on his phone. He intently gazed at the screen, and Odessa assumed he was contemplating whether or not to dial Sam's number. Reluctantly, Dean closed his phone and exited the Impala without another word.

            Reaching for the handle, Dean hastily stopped her. "You should just stay in the car," He suggested, which resembled a demand, and Odessa crossed her arms. She opened her mouth to begin arguing, but Dean intervened. "It's a small, quiet town, and the whole thing you've got going on here, it's going to distract the townspeople." He said, wriggling his index finger to indicate he was referring to her choice of apparel. Scoffing, she looked down and inspected; her cream-colored skirt reached just above her knees, her charcoal-shaded blouse was clinging desperately to her curves and the lace was woven with intricate designs. She must admit, the blouse exposed her cleavage rather nicely, but it was her choice of clothing. 

            "Essie, just stay in the car." Odessa quirked an eyebrow and sighed heavily. She crossed her arms and glared sternly at the plunging raindrops. The door's hinges squeaked vehemently and banged as Dean jaunted away. Her gaze on his back faltered as he vanished from sight, entering one of the buildings. Smirking to herself, Odessa unlocked the Impala's door and departed from the interior, snorting unattractively as she seized onto her ebony cardigan and the stack of missing person's paper. "Stay in the car my ass." She mumbled, ambling in the direction of a modest department store titled 'Jorgeson General Store'.

            Though she'd never say aloud, Dean was accurate with the subjective and ogling gazes as she sauntered through the entrance. Her attire certainly differentiated from the townspeople roaming the indoors. Her exposed runes appeared darkened with the ashen color palette of the town, and her strapped-heels were doubtlessly worth more than their monthly-salary. Her smile beamed as the older lady behind the counter took in the sight of the otherworldly woman enter. Odessa casually displayed the poster, and questioned the woman and man if they'd ever seen them pass through roughly a year ago, claiming they were dearly missed friends. Both shook their head, denying the suggestion. "Are you certain they didn't stop for gas, maybe they got something to eat?" The man grabbed the papers from Odessa's hand and examined the pictures closely. 

            "Nope, don't remember them. You said they were friends of yours—" 

            "Did the guy have a tattoo," A voice asked from the distance. Pivoting to face the source, she was greeted with an attractive blonde holding two boxes as she descends from the stairs. Quickly glimpsing down at the photograph, she nodded. The blonde, who couldn't have been older than Odessa, looked towards the man. "You remember? They were just married." The man, who Essie assumed was the blonde's father, raised his balled fist to his lips, and inspected the photo once again. Suspicious of the constricted expression he had, Odessa recollected the paper. 

            "You're right. They did stop for gas. Weren't here more than 10 minutes."

            She scrutinized the man's demeanor warily, unsure if she believed the man. "Anything else you suddenly remember," Odessa questioned, watching the blonde from her peripheral vision. The man, who claimed he'd never seen them before, had suddenly recalled the length of their stay, why they entered town, and now he was explaining he instructed them how to return to the interstate. "Huh, mind showing me the directions?"

            Departing the distrustful store, Odessa's eyes momentarily widened as she witnessed Dean impassively lingering near the Impala's door with an unruffled expression. The clicking of her heels gathered Dean's attention and he opened his mouth to retaliate something along the lines of 'I told you to stay in the car', or 'why didn't you listen to me'. She held up her palms as she meekly offered a lopsided grin. "Before you start yelling and begin doing the remarkably attractive jaw clenching thing you do when you're angry, I got some information on them," Dean stepped forward and his forehead creased, and remained reticent, signalling for her to pursue the conversation. "The older man in there, who was definitely lying to me, said he directed them to the interstate. So, let's go check it out." She spoke so quickly and practically sprinted towards the Impala, Dean didn't get the chance to utter a praise.

<<>>

            Wandering through the orchard as a perilous and sinister bank of fog that was composing from nothingness was troubling. The hundreds of trees surrounded them both, and the branches roughly intertwined with one another, making perceiving the ambiguous skies difficult. The scarecrow was particularly noticeable in the tangled branches and jumbles of soaked leaves. The jagged stitching across its face, and the malignant sockets where the eyes would be were undeniably eerie, as was the scythe the stuffed arm was holding. "Dude, you're fugly." Odessa's eyebrows knitted briefly as she noticed the familiar pattern on the exposed 'skin'. Grabbing and moving the wooden ladder, she ignored Dean's questioning stare as she stepped on each bar.

            She released a shaky sigh as the scarecrow's head tamely swayed to the soft breeze. Reluctantly, she reached for the stitched arm, pushing aside the cloth. "You know," Dean said, and Odessa nearly lost her footing. "I'm liking this view." She chuckled, though her expression remained placid as her fingertips gingerly grazed the fading pattern. Her eyes temporarily widened as she recognized the pattern. She hastily climbed down and began searching through Dean's jacket. 

            "Whoa, Essie, at least take me to dinner first." She rolled her eyes and seized the paper, unfolding the edges and she chuckled humorlessly. Raising and displaying the picture, she pointed to the tattoo on his forearm. The whole situation was piquing Odessa's interest the longer they remained in the town. Dean's eyes flickered from the picture and to the swirling, dwindling ink sheltered by the cloth of its shirt. Realization dawned on his god-like features, and his freckled nose scrunched in aversion. Crumbling the paper once again, Odessa proceeded to approach the Impala, craning her neck to peer over at Dean. "We need to go back to town," She said, self-confidence plastered on her facial expression. "Use your charm on the blonde, cute one, ask her questions about this place." There was an indistinct and obscure edge as she spoke, something Dean hadn't noticed.

            "My charm," Dean questioned, a wide and glittering grin erupting as he guffawed boisterously, shaking his head softly. "I don't know, my 'charm' has been iffy with you, I doubt it'll work." He said and continued to walk. The crunching of the few dry leaves captured Odessa's gobsmacked attention, and she glanced downwards at the patches of exposed grass. 

           Clearing her throat, she took a step forward and attempted to regain her composure. "Are you flirting with me?" She asked.

            Dean snorted, not bothering to face her. "Have been for the past 6 months, thanks for noticing." The young Guardian assumed his flirtatious comments were merely him expressing his evident attraction towards her. Though this was true, and she did the same, his comment somehow had an effect on her. "Let's go, I heard the diner has pie."

<<>>

            As Dean casually conversed with the male and female who they suspected were the couple destined to disappear next, Odessa occupied herself with submerging herself within her thoughts. Sam, who she sympathized deeply with, was traveling to California to search for his father. He was in control of his actions and his thoughts, and didn't allow anyone to alter his decisions. As a teenager, she would've envied Sam's stubborn and composed personality. Now, her perception of self-control and when to truly accept demands have adjusted throughout the years.

            Dean, who Odessa categorized him as the 'perfect soldier', was desperate for his father's approval, and she understood him as well. Odessa too was once determined to appreciation and admiration, that was before she realized Drexel's opinion on her capabilities were invalid. However, the despondent sensation remained in the pit of her stomach for several years. The profound discouragement and dejection was embedded into her mind, until she focused on what was important; herself. 

            Shaking herself from horrid memories of her conversations with Drexel, Odessa gave the couple to her side a once-over, taking notice of their fearful expressions. A bland expression overrode her once distracted one. The ringing of the bell atop the doorway caught her attention, and the Sheriff was there, glaring in their direction. Odessa violently kicks Dean's shin under the table, and he winces, turning to face her with a bothered look. "We've been in this diner for, what, seven minutes? And you already have the Sheriff to come and talk to us?" Dean sighed and began to speak, interrupted by the Sheriff's gruff tone.

            "I'd like a word, please." Odessa feigned a blazing grin, grasping Dean's hand. 

            "Oh, I'm sorry for my boyfriend's behavior," Odessa said, tightening her grip on his calloused hand. "He's have a really bad day. He forgot to take his pills." The Sheriff chuckled humorlessly as he placed both his palms on their table, a grim glimmer in his eyes. 

            "If you don't want to make this day worse, you better come with me." Odessa pursed her mouth firmly together, her nostrils flared with each intake of air. Momentarily glimpsing down at her darkened emblems, she stiffly stood from her chair, purposely shoving past the man. Dean reluctantly stood as well, following after the Guardian.  

            Trudging towards the Impala, Odessa glared harshly as she brutally slapped Dean's upper arm. "Dumbass," She muttered, pushing her ebony hair behind her shoulder. "There were so many different ways this could've ended." The crisp, afternoon breeze collided with her skin, and the abrupt contact formed goosebumps. Dean simply mimicked her voice with an exceptionally high and nasally tone as he entered the vehicle.

<<>>

            With reluctance, Odessa settled herself on the polished, wooden table of the man who Incorporated with the local community college. She inspected the intricate construction of the lace stitched on her blouse. The fabric was pliable against her fingertips, and she suddenly failed to remember where she purchased her blouse. "A woods god. Well, let's see," The man declared aloud, unfolding his glasses. The pages were flipped until Dean urged the man to stop on a certain page. "That's not a woods god per se." He said, referring to the image scribbled in black ink. 

            Dean's finger delicately trailed each word as he distinctly read, "Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Villages built effigies of Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice, one male and one female. It kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?" Odessa furrowed her eyebrows, pushing herself off the tabletop, her heels clicking against the floorboards. She scanned the scripture and nodded, humming in agreement. "Well, I suppose." The man muttered reluctantly, face strained as he spoke.

            Continuing his reading, Dean returned his intent gaze on the paper. "This particular Vanir, its energy sprung from a sacred tree," The man replied with implying Pagans believed everything was infused with magic. "So, what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? Do you think it'd kill the god?" The man chuckled nervously, though Odessa noticed he attempted to conceal the obvious emotion.

            "Son, these are just legends we're discussing here."

            Grabbing a hold of Dean's forearm, Odessa fabricates a glistening grin, "Well, of course we are aware of that," She said, chuckling to appear more authentic. "Thank you for your time." There was something off about the man's sudden change in behavior and expressions. He appeared to be apprehensive on sharing those details with Dean. She opened the door and was greeted with the recoil pad of the Sheriff's shotgun. She groaned as the darkness consumed her consciousness.

<<>>

            Awakening from her slumber, Odessa groaned as she gingerly grazed the minuscule bump on her forehead. Her forehead momentarily throbbed as she brushed the wound. There were murmurs, though she knew the voices were female and male, she wasn't entirely certain who the female was. She could barely decipher the sudden raise of volume from the male, he shouted her name, and heavy footsteps came towards her direction. Calloused palms cupped her cheeks and began gently rocking her head back and forth. Despite the blurriness, she recognized those verdant eyes instantaneously. "Dean," She uttered, "What's she doing here?" Dean glimpsed back at Emily, the woman Odessa spoke with prior, and averted his attention back to Essie.

            Noticing the close proximity between their faces, Dean hastily released her face and staggered back. "They were going to sacrifice Emily, but then you and I came along." She nodded, understanding they were going to sacrifice her now instead of Emily. She opened her mouth to retort some form of snarky remark, but the wooden doors opened, bringing the brightening light inside. The man Dean spoke with  prior was there, aiming his shotgun at them. "It's time," Emily's Aunt said. 

            Odessa glowered in the direction of Emily's family members, apprehensively stepping forward and extended her palms onward. She grunted at the ferocity of the Sheriff's grasp as he tugged her towards the sprouting trees and ambled in Dean's direction. The ropes tied around her wrists were far too firm to allow her serpent to wiggle her free. Worriedly, Odessa attempted to see if Dean was in any harm, though he was just speaking with the Sheriff. "You are monsters," She sneered, tone laced with venom. "Leading innocent people to their deaths, and for what? Another year of good crops?" 

            "You have to realize, it's our responsibility. And there's just no other choice."

             Odessa guffawed humorlessly, "There's no other choice? There's always another choice, such as moving away, or actually putting effort into keeping your crops well instead sacrificing humans," Breathing heavily, she continued. "You were going to sacrifice Emily, she's never going to forgive you." Both Emily's Aunt and Uncle glimpse at one another with an evident emotion blazing; despair and regret.

            Soon, sunrise quickly transformed into nightfall, and Odessa could no longer feel any sensation in her hands. The snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves could be made clear in the silence between Odessa and Dean. Tightly shutting her eyes, Odessa inhaled and held her breath. "Dean," The familiar voice whispered, "Essie?" Quickly reopening her eyes, Odessa sighed in relief as she witnessed Sam untie Dean's ropes. 

            Sam's hastily untied Odessa's ropes, and as soon as she was released, she embraced Sam. Her face collided with his chest, and she sighed deeply. His cologne reminded of the Impala's aroma. They released each other when they noticed the scarecrow was no longer on the cross. Running through the orchard was difficult with the lack of lighting, and the thumping of her heart. As they made it to the end, the Sheriff was there, along with Emily's family and other Odessa hadn't recognized. It was unbelievable there were this many people aware of the town's secret, and were okay with it.

            However, Emily's uncle and aunt were both taken into the darkness, leaving Odessa and Dean safe. With the assistance of Emily, she torched the tree, and Sam came to the conclusion he was best teamed with Odessa and Dean.

(A/N: Hey! Thanks for reading! I was wondering if you guys would kindly please comment what you think of the story so far. It would mean a lot to me, and it would make writing easier knowing what you guys want. So, please, comment and tell me any suggestions, problems, or anything. Thank you and have a great day/night!)