WILL CORRECT GRAMMATICAL ERRORS SOON

            Odessa didn't like Cassie.

            She wasn't entirely certain why the attractive mocha-skinned woman irked the Guardian, she was only introduced merely hours ago, and though there hadn't been a valid justification as to why, the brunette with bouncy curls aggravated Odessa. Perhaps the vague notion was because Cassie assumed her charcoal knee-high boots coordinated with her jean skirt and tweed jacket. Odessa mentally scolded herself for concluding an illogical opinion solely on her choice of attire. 

            "My mother's in pretty bad shape," Cassie said, quickly entering the room with a tray in both hands. "I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about dad." Cassie's back was facing Odessa, who was compressed between Sam and Dean. Briefly, Odessa felt condemned for criticizing the ghastly fabric of her skirt while she was grieving for her father's death. The culpability vanished as Cassie's thick wedges collided against the wooden panels.

            Cassie poured warm tea into glass mugs, "He was scared. He was seeing things." Dean swiftly questioned her statement. "He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him." She replied, and Odessa furrowed her eyebrows while observing her movements. She glimpsed in Dean's direction, whose gaze was fixated on Cassie's spherical curls, which reminded Odessa of springs as Cassie hastily nodded her head, and she averted her attention back to the darkened emblem partly concealed by her electrum-whip on her forearm. An unpleasant knot of some sorts formed in her abdomen.

            "He didn't talk about a driver, just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear," Cassie handed the three the mugs after adding sugar cubes. "And in the accident, dad's truck was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big." Odessa refrained from uttering abruptly 'that's what she said', and sipped the tea instead. She also abstained herself from speaking in general, considering the irregular sensation blossoming in her abdomen. Perhaps she was sick, a fever or mild cold.

            "Now, you're sure this dent wasn't there before?" Sam questioned.

            Cassie replied as she took her seat across from Odessa. "He sold cars, always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks from dad's car leading right to the edge where he went over. One set of tracks— his." Sympathy oozed from the three as Cassie's doe eyes dwelled with crystalline tears.

            "And the first person killed was a friend of your father's?"

             Cassie quickly corrected, "Best friend," She said, "Clayton Solmes. They owned a car dealership together. Same thing— dent, no tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad," Her tone had risen considerably as she spoke, an evident passion lacing her tongue. "'He lost control of his car." Odessa nodded softly, understanding the hollow minds of police officers. They couldn't fathom the situation, so they attempt comprehend something they've misinterpreted. She sipped her bland tea, grimacing at the warmth. Crimson stained the rim where her lips pressed against.

            Clearing her throat, Odessa swallowed the brew. "That's strange, is there any possible reason why your father could be targets," She questioned, attempting to ensconce her sharp tone. Cassie shook head, "And you think this vanishing truck killed your father?" However, she couldn't conceal the flabbergasted tone, almost as if repeating the suggestion aloud was insane, because it was.

            "When you say it aloud like that," Cassie trailed off, sighing heavily. "Look, I'm a little skeptical about this ghost stuff or whatever it is you guys are into." Odessa refrained from rolling her eyes. Guarding people with moral and ethical principles wasn't something Odessa hadn't had a choice on. This was her supposed fate, and though she still required guidance, she was attempting her best to discover her destiny.

            Dean chuckled, "Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts."

            "That was then," Odessa quirked an eyebrow, humming sarcastically as her grasp on the mug tightened. Cassie sighed once again, rolling her doe eyes as she did so. "I just know that I can't explain what happened up there, so I called you." The locks of the door unlocked noisily and gathered everyone's attention, Sam and Dean hastily setting their mugs down.

            Cassie cried out, "Mom. Where have you been?" She abruptly stood and dashed in her mother's direction. Odessa sipped her tea once more, relishing the warmth that danced across her tongue. The swirls of smoke tickled her nostrils as she inhaled the tangy aroma with each breath, however, this was short-lived as she settled her mug besides Deans and stood as well. She flattened the wrinkles of her silk blouse, and feigned a brightening grin.

            "I had no idea you'd invited friends over." Her mother replied, clutching her chest as she breathed heavily.

            "Mom, this is Dean," Cassie introduced, trailing off as she pondered on what to say. "A friend from college, his brother Sam, and Odessa who's their friend." Odessa wanted to nothing more than leave this town and never return, her reasons were still unknown, and continuing to remain as if she's interested in Cassie's rambling was beginning to become tiresome.

            "Well, I won't interrupt you." Dean politely declared his apologies for her loss, and asked they'd question her, to which she declined and dashed out the room.

<<>>

            The absence of Odessa's regal presence constructed the superb opportunity of questioning Dean of his lingering gazes. Inching near Dean, who stood ahead of the mirror and was intently tying his tie, Sam attempted to initiate some form of conversation. "I'll say this for her— she's fearless," He said as he applied his coat. Dean hummed in agreement. "Bet she kicked your ass a couple times. But you know what I find interesting is you guys never look at each other. She's staring at you while you stare at Odessa— it's just an interesting observation in a, you know, observationally interesting way."

            Dean, fussed with the conversation, halted his movements and glared in Sam's direction. "You think we might have some more pressing issues here?"

            Sam was aware of what he was performing, and he resisted to release his smug expression. "Hey, if I'm hitting a nerve," He trailed off, "But hey, like you've said before, there's absolutely nothing there between you and Essie. But then there was that one time-"

            Dean groaned, "Oh god, let's go."

<<>>

            Odessa glimpsed from the screen of Sam's computer to his puppy-like expression as he intently flipped through the pages of his father's journal. The motel room was unusually serene with the absence of Dean's munching and commentary. Odessa scoffed inwardly as she remembered he was 'speaking' with Cassie for whatever reason he mustered prior to Sam's return. She concluded her annoyance was merely a symptom of her monthly appointment with Mother Nature, and established she would remain doing research on this phantom. Her research primarily consisted of browsing through ineffective blogs as she sipped her brewed tea and groaning aloud as the frustration oppressed her.

            She grumbled, gently massaging her temples, and closed the computer as she came across another website of impractical articles. She ran her slender fingers through her hair and pushed the computer to opposite side of the unstable tabletop. She glanced on the irradiated numbers on the digital clock, sighing as the flashing numbers said '3:03'. The ominous bank of cloud above illuminated through the curtains scarcely. The obscure and achromatic midnight sky was a vexatious reminder of Dean's absence, and Odessa shook her head. A vehement thud echoed through the desolate room. Odessa flinched as she hastily shot her head up from her folded arms. Sam tossed his father's journal to the separate side of his comforter. He sighed, and though it was partially from his exhaustion from prior events, the excess derived from his disinterest of Odessa's behavior. "What's up," He questioned as he wiped his face with the palms of is hands. "Your frustration is radiating all the way over here."

            Odessa grimaced as she tucked her waves behind her shoulder. Her appearance was differentiating from her traditional attire; consisting of her natural waves, deficiency of her make-up, and lack of black and leather as she wore fuzzy, purple pajama shorts and a grey tank-top. Sam, and though his preferred apparel hadn't mattered to Essie, favored this semblance. Odessa stood on her bare feet, and ambled leisurely towards the corner of his bed. "Nothing important," She said after a moment of pondering. "I'm just bothered with Dean. We're supposed to be researching, and he's hooking up with Cassie. I mean, come on, the three of us all know I'd rather be in battle than do research." She huffed as sprawled her body while resting her chin on the palm of her hand.

            Sam nodded, expressing that he understood. "Yeah, I understand, but this is Dean we're talking about. He loved Cassie," He stated, half-shrugging. "I don't think Dean actually loved someone other than her." Odessa nodded rigidly and inhaled deeply. His movements, his tone laced with sincerity, and his floppy hair unintentionally reminded Odessa of Costello, and wave of grief collided within her.

            She fiddled with the attached sphere's of lint, and apprehensively spoke. "You remind me of him," She muttered, voice barely perceptible. "My brother, I mean. He was noble, and intelligent, and always worried for my safety. And in the end, he died because of me." Memories resurfaced inadvertently as Sam straightened his posture and reassuringly grasped her hand. She pursed her lips, attempting to feign her notorious grin, and sniffled the threatening tears. Sam voice was soft and courteously respectful of her boundaries as he timidly asked if she wanted to speak about it.

            "I've never really gotten into detail about it with anyone, but it was my ceremony when the demons and hellhounds attacked. It's been nearly a year and I'm still dreaming about the blood and screams. You know, I never got to say goodbye, and sometimes I wonder if there was anything I could have done to save them," Her voice was beginning to waver and tears were dwelling in her mocha eyes. It was odd to see Essie out of character. The woman sitting in front of Sam wasn't the usual confident badass. This woman was broken and shattered. "There was blood and some of it was mine, some was the demons, and some was from my father."

            I left my life behind after I escaped from the fire, and I don't think I ever got that part back. There will always be a portion of Odessa De Lo Santos buried in the ashes. I've got the emblems, but if I couldn't save my own family, I'm not a Guardian. I don't deserve the title. I failed and I—" She sobbed and Odessa released her suppressed emotions she contained for nearly a year, and Sam hastily embraced her. The warmth from his body seeped through their clothing, and Odessa nuzzled her face into his shoulder as she choked back another sob. He caressed her charcoal-shaded hair tenderly as he soothingly rubbed circles on her back with his thumb.

            Sam released her. "Essie, don't blame yourself for something that wasn't your fault. You had no control over your family's death, and there was nothing you could do. As rough as that sounds, you need accept that and move on. Dean and I will be there for you every step of the way."

            Odessa sniffled, wiping the cascading tears away from her face. "Yeah, like how he's here right now." She scoffed, and she couldn't conceal the evident sharpness in her tone.

            Sam shook his head. "Dean cares about you a lot more than he shows," He informed, carefully minding his words. "I think that kind of scares him. You came out of the blue and saved our lives, and I don't think he meant for himself to care this much." Odessa concluded the fluttering in her stomach was merely a symptom from her fever. "Look, if you're not a Guardian, then you're a hunter. You're a Winchester."

            Odessa grinned and chuckled, a sincere and genuine emotion expressed for the first time in two days. "I'd like that," She muttered. "Now, cuddle with me. I'm exhausted and it's freezing." As Sam laughed, she twisted the knob of the lamp on the nightstand and crawled beneath covers. Sam's lengthy arms draped over her frame, and she sighed in content. "Thank you." She whispered, and tightly shut her eyes.

<<>>

            The wintry breeze collided against Odessa's golden skin, and goosebumps erupted as she inhaled sharply. She admired the cascading snowflakes as she leaned against one of parked vehicles, palms stuffed inside the pockets of one Sam's over-sized sweaters she temporarily borrowed. Puffs of vaporized water swirled endlessly as she exhaled, entrancing the wearied Guardian. The heaps of fallen snow crunched under Odessa's combat boots and dampened the edges of the cloth. She glanced where Sam stood, conversing silently with an unidentified officer. He tucked his faux badge inside his jacket, and dismissed the man as Dean suddenly entered her peripheral vision. She groaned inwardly as she averted her attention to her laces.

            Both brothers stood momentarily, speaking among themselves, and Odessa hadn't bothered to listen knowing they were speaking of Cassie and Dean's steamy night. However, Sam motioned for her to continue walking, to which she tightly shut her eyes and sighed heavily before pushing herself off the hood and walked to them. As she inched closer, Odessa heard Dean question the crime scene. "Every bone crushed, internal organs turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, but it's almost like something ran him over," Sam informed, a grin rising on his lips as Odessa brushed against his shoulder, catching his attention. "He owned property. Bought it a few weeks ago." Sam replied to Dean's several questions.

             Dean scrunched his eyebrows together. "Yeah, but he's white. Doesn't fit the pattern."

            Odessa intervened, "The killings didn't happen on the road, and that doesn't either." 

            With a placid expression, Dean questioned Odessa. "Hey, Essie, you could come with me to do some research," Odessa blandly stared into his verdant eyes. "Cassie will be more than willing to work with you." 

            Chuckling humorlessly, Odessa didn't bother to fabricate her vexed tone. "I have better things to do than third-wheel with you two lovebirds and your eye-sex." She scoffed and continued walking, lifting her hood and firmly clenched the lapels of her flannel Sam suggested she purchase weeks ago. She heard Sam chuckle and trail her footsteps, leaving Dean alone with snowflakes partially sprinkled on his sandy hair.

<<>>

            Hours passed when she received a phone call from Dean, his frantic voice briefly obliterating her frustration with him as he shouted Cassie was in danger. She hastily gathered her belongings and informed Sam of the situation, and they rushed to Cassie's home. Currently, now knowing Cassie's well-being was untarnished, her dislike for the woman gradually returned as she was perched in front of both Sam and Odessa. "Maybe you could throw a couple shots in that." She said as Sam handed her the coffee mug.

            "You didn't see who was driving the truck?"

             Cassie shook her head as she gently placed the mug back on the plate. "There seemed to be no one. Everything was moving too fast. And then it was just gone. Why didn't it kill us?" Odessa scrunched her eyebrows, confused as to why Cassie was questioning the truck's motives, and wasn't thankful she and her mother were alive.

            Odessa replied, "It's simple, whoever is controlling the truck wants you to be afraid first, duh." She muttered the end, aware of how childish she was being. Beside her, she noticed Sam's glare. 

            "Mrs. Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died." 

            She appeared visibly shaken as she stared intently at nothing in particular, eyes widened considerably. "Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure what he was seeing." Odessa scoffed and fiddled with her fingers. 

            "Well, consider tonight your proof to be reasonably sure that he indeed was seeing a truck. Don't you get it? What happened tonight means you two are marked. Cassie is going to die, and so are you, so if you know something valuable, now would be a splendid time to explain."

            Cassie glared harshly. "What is your problem—"

            Mrs. Robinson interjected. "Yes. Yes he said he saw a truck. "

            "Did he know who it belonged to?" Sam questioned.

            "He thought he did," She replied. "Cyrus. A man named Cyrus. Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago." Odessa snatched the newspaper article from Dean's hands and quickly read the first couple sentences. She looked up at Mrs. Robinson.

            "How did you know he died," Odessa asked quietly. "The paper said he went missing, never did it say he died. How do you know he died?" Odessa repeated as she didn't answer, only continued to stare into nothingness. 

            She toyed with her necklace. "We were all very young. I dated Cyrus a while. I was also seeing Martin, in secret of course, 'cause interracial couples didn't go over too well then. When I broke it off with Cyrus, and when he found out about Martin—I don't know—he changed. His hated—his hatred was terrifying," Sam mumbled, and she replied swiftly. "There were rumors, people of color disappearing into some kind of truck. Nothing was ever done. Martin and I, we were gonna get married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope 'cause we didn't want all the attention."

            "And Cyrus?" 

            Mrs. Robinson's voice cracked as she sobbed softly. "The day we set for the wedding was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died." 

            Sam, with the exact reassuring tone he used last night, asked her about the end of the attacks. "No, there was one more. One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible, but Martin, you see, Martin got loose, and he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him." 

            "Why didn't you call the cops?"

            She looked visibly appalled by the question. "This was forty years ago. He called on his friends—Clayton, Solmes, and Jimmy Anderson—and they put Cyrus' body into the truck and then rolled it into the swamp at the edge of his land and all three of them kept that secret all these years."

            Odessa's mouth formed an 'o' formation. "Now all three of them are gone. And Mayor Todd."

            Dean leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Now, he said that you of all people would know he's not a racist. Why would he say that?"

            "He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then, investigating Cyrus' disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done, he did nothing. Because he also knew what Cyrus had done."

            Tears cascaded down Cassie's face as she spoke. "Why didn't you tell me?"

            "I thought I was protecting them. And now there's no one left to protect."

             Odessa feigned a smile, "That's not true," She said, casting Cassie a glimpse. "You've got your daughter. Protect her at all costs."

<<>>

            Odessa, with a grimace, scratched the nape of her neck as Mrs. Robinson was declared asleep by Cassie. Sam and Dean were conversing among themselves against the Impala, and Odessa remained inside with Cassie, who appeared just as apprehensive on beginning a conversation as Odessa. She fiddled with her electrum whip, encircling her forearm was her feeble attempts to distract her from the tension. Odessa sighed, she was acting as if she were a stereotypical school girl. She folded her arms across her chest, pursing her lips together in a fine line. "Cassie," She cleared her throat, "I'm sorry about earlier, with your mom, I mean. I've been stressed for the last couple days, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you or your mom." 

            Cassie's mouth formed an 'o' formation as she processed Odessa's apologies. The curly-haired woman feigned a grin, and nodded rigidly. She too scratched her nape. "Yeah, it's no problem. I appreciate you apologizing. I knew you've been stressed, Dean mentioned something about your parents—"

            Odessa displayed her palm, her eyes flickered with disbelief as she repeated her sentence in her subconscious. "I'm sorry, but Dean spoke about my family with you?" Cassie's eyes momentarily widened considerably as her mouth opened and closed. Dean, of all people, was speaking of her fallen family with some woman he'd fallen in love years ago. 

            Cassie reconsidered her words carefully. "I mean, I asked if there was something going on between you two, and he just said he was helping take care of an emotional wreck—" Cassie stopped herself before she could continue saying anything else. Odessa gasped softly, tears brimming in her eyes as she blinked them away. "Oh god, that sounded a lot worse then it actually was. Odessa, I'm sorry." 

            Odessa scoffed, gathering her composure as she sniffled. "It's fine, but no offense, Cassie, but you have no business speaking about me or my family." Odessa shook her head, dashing for the doorway and plastered an enthusiastic expression as she descended the porch. She spoke no words as Dean and Sam pushed themselves from the Impala, and opened their mouths to speak. She pushed passed Dean, roughly colliding her shoulder with his arm, and entered the back seat of the vehicle. Sam sent her a questioning glance, to which she ignored. 

            What was happening to her, she thought as Dean and Cassie spoke, kissing passionately. Normally, Dean's insulting comment would be considered insignificant, and Odessa wouldn't think twice about it. Now, she was crying because of Dean. She was crying because of her dead family. And she was crying because she was experiencing emotions she's never encountered before. As Dean and Sam entered the car, the squeaking of the hinges echoing in the silent night, Odessa couldn't speak without exposing her mental state. "I'm not feeling well," She muttered, careful to appear as authentic as she could. "Take me back to the motel, I just need to rest for an hour or two." And with that being said, Odessa reclined her back and focused her attention on the moonlight.

<<>>

            Sam was perched in the driver's seat, watching intently as Cassie and Dean said their farewells. "My mother says to tell you thanks again," Cassie said softly. "This was a better goodbye than last time."

            Dean shrugged, hardly noticeable. "Yeah, well, maybe this time it'll be a little less permanent."

            Cassie feigned a smile. "You know what? With your lifestyle, and Odessa—"

             Dean's expression faltered. "What are-"

            "I'm a realist, Dean. I'm not blind. I don't see much hope for us."

             Dean couldn't think of anything clever to say. "Well, I—" He nodded, pursing his lips. His thoughts returned to his conversation with Sam as he drove the truck out of the swamp. "I'll see you, Cassie." He leaned down to kiss her, but halted as he realized he didn't want to. She nodded too, whispering her good-byes as well.

            As they descended from Cassie's view, Sam's eyes widened. "Essie is going to kill us when she finds out you almost died while she was sleeping."

            "Oh crap."

I FINALLY UPDATED! Oh my god, this chapter is just a mess, and I want to re-write it, but I'm so tired of writing this episode, it's unbelievable. So, firstly, I'm sorry for my absence, school has been kicking my ass and I come home so tired. Secondly, this chapter is dedicated to alana-grace because she is a sweetheart and helped me with suggestions earlier, so be a doll and go give her follow! Thirdly, please comment your reviews of the story so far! I DO  read my comments and suggestions, it means a lot when you give feedback and it helps with the writing process! Thank you so much for reading and have a great day/night :)