Odessa, with a grimace, massaged her forearm as the incisive sensation blossomed from her darkened emblem. The sensitivity of her skin had gradually progressed from a faint prick to an impression of flames tickling her arm. Although the obscure atmosphere made seeing rather difficult, Odessa could detect the mild outline of her rune, and she winced reticently as the searing pain returned. She clutched her forearm, peering towards the slumbering men whose multi-colored flannels were jumbled together, and their hushed snoring bounced off the walls. A ghostly grin rose as their chests heaved upwards then down. They appeared so serene, and more tranquil than she's ever seen them. Though, her observations were short-lived, she sent a quizzical glance towards Sam, who indistinct mumbles were hardly audible. The floor felt like ice as she stood, walking warily towards his stirring figure. His eyes swiftly fluttered open, and a faint gasp escaped his lips. 

          Odessa, too, gasped and stepped back from his side, squeezing her eyes shut as she unintentionally collided against his nightstand. He lurched forward, and it was then when Odessa noticed his soaked skin. He sent her a questioning look, almost as if he were wondering why she was awake at midnight. Shaking his head, Sam shook Dean's loosely hanging arm, murmuring his name as he did so. He clicked the lampshade on and hurried out of his bed. Odessa furrowed her brows, and flinched as Sam turned on the other lampshades. The room was brightly illuminated with light, and Dean's grunts filled the air as he reluctantly woke from his slumber. "What are you doing, man? It's the middle of the night." 

          Sam grabbed his bundled flannels and stuffed them inside his bag. "We have to go," Sam urged, refusing to acknowledge their questions. "We have to go right now." She squinted as she tried to discern his expression, only to be greeted by a jumble of darkened outlines. Sam swiftly handed Odessa her electrum whip and her maroon jacket, tugging her outside and towards the Impala. She hadn't gotten the chance to adjust to the alteration in temperature, and goosebumps erupted. From the distance, she could hear Dean's heavy footsteps and ruffling of his clothing. As Dean started the Impala, Sam quickly explained his so-called 'vision' of a man's homicide. Odessa ruffled her hair, wincing silently as the stinging faintly returned. 

          Sam fished his phone from his pocket and began dialing a number she hadn't recognized. "McReedy, Detective McReedy. Badge number 158. I've got a signal 480 in progress. I need the registered owner of a two-door sedan, Michigan license plate—Mary-Frank-6-0-3-7. Yeah. Okay. Just hurry." Odessa yawned as she stretched her arms. The temptation to fall asleep was beginning to become difficult by the second to fight off, and the scorching pain had diminished over time. She was internally grateful, she didn't need to bite her lips to conceal her whimpers of discomfort any longer. She fiddled with the gem attached to her necklace as she readjusted her body's position. "Sam, I'm sure this was just a nightmare," She muttered, eyes drowsily blinking away the blur. "Calm down."

          The phone was still against his ear. "Yeah, tell me about it." He retaliated with an infrequent sharpness. Though Odessa didn't take it to heart.

          She shook her head, "I'm being serious. This could just be a normal nightmare. We see crazy things everyday, this could just be a side-effect of that." Dean glanced at her through the rearview mirror, and she hastily evaded his gaze. She willingly chose to ignore Dean's presence in the span of two days, after her conversation with Cassie, and she hadn't regretted her choice. Certainly she missed her flirtatious comments, their good-natured arguing, and contests of who could eat the most burgers, but she was utterly enraged with him.

          Her yearning for Dean's attention wasn't nearly as strong as her temporary resentment for him. He'd constantly question what had happened between them, and because she was more stubborn than he was, she simply didn't reply and continue her silent treatment. If Sam was leaving to get coffee, there was Odessa behind him, allowing Dean to ponder on what had he done so terrible alone. "Essie's right, this license plate," Dean said, "It won't check out."

          Sam glanced in the rearview mirror, "It felt different, Essie. Like when I dreamt of our old house and Jessica."

          "Yeah, well, that makes sense. You're dreaming about our house and your girlfriend. This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before," Sam merely uttered a 'no'. "Exactly. Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan?"

          Odessa shrugged, realizing they couldn't see her. "Sam, just don't stress yourself over it, not until you're sure." 

          Sam opened his mouth to reply, but his attention was focused on the phone. "Yes, I'm here. Jim Miller—Saginaw, Michigan. Do you have a street address? Got it. Thanks." Odessa furrowed her eyebrows as she straightened her posture. "It checks out. How far are we?"

          Dean glimpsed at Sam. "From Saginaw? A couple hours." 

          Sam intently gazed on the nothingness before him. "Drive faster."

<<>>

          "Forgive me father for I am about to sin," Odessa declared as she adjusted Sam's floppy hair. She stood back and examined her 'temporarily misplaced' clerical attire. "If only you could hear the thoughts in my head." Sam chuckled as he reviewed his reflection on Odessa's travel-sized mirror, nodding in satisfaction as he lowered the compact device. She tenderly patted away any visible wrinkles and spheres of lint, and grinned in contentment as she backed up once again. Sam silently thanked her as she combed his hair, and with their close proximity, Sam was capable of witnessing Odessa's demeanor modify as Dean entered the room. She stiffened as he called for her, claiming he desperately needed her assistance with his collar. She sighed, and reluctantly trudged towards him.

          Odessa's fingers gingerly caressed his skin as she readjusted the fabric, and she attempted to remain expressionless. She could feel his gaze piercing her mocha-eyes, and she swallowed the lump caught in her throat. "Odessa," He said. Not Essie, Es, sweetheart. Just Odessa. "Talk to me, please." She halted, and glanced into his eyes. The intensity of his yearning, puzzlement, and distress is evident as his emotions are candid and swirling in his iris'. Her arms fall to her side as her mouth opens and closes. She was aware of Sam's questioning gaze, and her head hung low as the vigor from both Winchester's aura radiated. 

          "Dean," She sighed, a discernible edge seeped through her tone. "You told some stranger about my family—" 

          "She wasn't just some stranger—"

          "Well, she was to me," Odessa intervened, "I didn't know this woman, and you explained my problems to her? You call me an emotional wreck, and you just think that's okay? Dean, I'm not someone you can refer to as scum under your shoe every time the woman you're banging is concerned of our 'relationship'." Odessa raked her fingers through her hair, and she swiftly pivoted away from the eldest Winchester, convinced she released a minuscule portion of her anger. She glimpsed towards Sam, who pursed his lips into a thin line as he apprehensively glanced down at his laces.

          She inhaled deeply, and plastered her notorious grin. "All right," She said as she clapped her hands together. "Time for you to go and be a Mormon." She pushed Sam's large frame out of the motel doorway, and Dean quickly followed behind. As they entered the Impala, Odessa closed the door and firmly shut her eyes, pondering on why speaking with Dean was growing considerably difficult.

<<>>

          Sam and Dean swiftly returned to the motel after they gathered bunches of impractical information. Odessa intently gazed at the brewing coffee, bubbles rising atop one another, and the aroma of the strong beverage was stuffing the room and her nostrils. Sam entered the room with a strained expression, massaging the bone between his eyebrows. She cautiously interrogated him, bombarding him with numerous questions of his prior actions. He merely dismissed the allegations Odessa inquired of his lack of a proper meal, to which he politely asked for some coffee. She chose to ignore Sam's wincing expression every few moments or so. There was no point in asking if he were to just continue denying any assistance. "So, what do you have?" Dean asked, cleaning the barrels of his weapons. 

          Sam's back was towards him. "A lot of nothing. Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built." Odessa grabbed a glass mug from the shelf, pouring the scorching drink inside tentatively.

          She poured the sugar in, "How about the land," She added, "Any graveyards, battlefields, tribal lands, anything ghostly like that?" She pivoted and faced them, steaming mug in hand as she jerked her head to push away her hair. Sam shook his head, taking a seat on his bed's duvets.  Dean shrugged, continuing to clean his weapons. 

          "Hey, man, I told you. I searched that house up and down. There were no cold spots, no sulfur scent, nada." Dean commented. 

          Sam gratefully accepted the coffee. "And the family said everything was normal?" 

          Odessa scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. "Well, Sam, I think if there were a poltergeist or something, they'd notice. Dean said used the thermal scanner, and he said there was nothing." She realized this had been the first time she'd said his name in three days, and Dean had made the realization as well because his head quickly snapped in her direction. 

          "So, what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sort of freakish coincidence?" 

          Dean shrugged nonchalantly, a frown appearing. "I don't know. I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house." 

          Odessa furrowed her eyebrows as Sam winced again, clutching his temples. "You know, maybe, uh, maybe it has nothing to do with the house. Maybe it's just a—gosh—maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way." Odessa's arms returned to her sides as she inched forward in Sam's direction.

          Her voice was smooth, reminding Sam of the silk sewed into her heels. "Sam, you all right," Sam exhaled sharply, firmly clutching the cloth of his duvets. He cried in pain as he exclaimed the pain was deriving from his head. "Sam, hey, talk to me." She rushed towards, grasping his shoulders. His face was distant, as if he weren't entirely there beside Odessa. She shook him, but he remained the same. It was only seconds after when he seemed to return.

          He looked into her eyes, fear outlining his iris'. "It's happening again. Something is going to kill Roger Miller." 

<<>>

          Odessa was beginning to believe time was not on their side, and they were rushing to the scenes far too late. The gloom expression hadn't entirely left Sam's face as he returned to the Miller's home, shaggy hair combed back into its tamed formation. She chose to attend the conversation this time, perhaps she'd be able to charm herself information the Winchester's could never retrieve. Max opened the door, tears stained down his cheeks, eyes outlined in faint scarlet, and his skin was sickly pale. Odessa ignored his confusion as she entered the home, standing behind the chair where Sam sat himself.

          "My mom's resting. She's pretty wrecked," Max said, "All these people kept coming with, like, casseroles. I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know, nothing says 'I'm sorry' like a tuna casserole." Odessa chuckled as Max spoke with distaste.

          Odessa pursed her lips into a thin line. "How are you holding up, Max?" She questioned, tone softer than the fabric of his couch. Max looked uncomfortable briefly, his shoulders tensing as he answered just as soft. "I'm okay."

          Sam spoke, "Your dad and your uncle were close?" 

          "Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little," Sam asked if they'd conversed as much lately. "No, it's not that. It's just, we used to be neighbors when I was a kid. We lived across town in this house, and uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time." 

          Sam nodded gently. "So, how was it in that house when you were a kid?" 

          Max answered blandly. "All good memories? You remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?" Dean asked. 

          Max pursed his lips, chuckling uncomfortably as he offered a half-shrug. "Why do you-why do you ask?" 

          Odessa crossed her arms, "It's just a question."

          Max inhaled sharply, "No. There was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy." 

          "That's good," Odessa said as she awkwardly nodded. "You must be exhausted, we'll get out of here to let you rest." Max nodded his head, and minutes later the trio exited the home. The sudden change in temperature erupted goosebumps as the chilly breeze blew past Odessa. Sam and Dean hurriedly ambled in the direction of the Impala, and, surprisingly, Odessa managed to match a steady pace in six-inch heels. "Nobody's family is totally normal and happy. You see when he was talking about his old house?" 

          Odessa briefly recalled the prior conversation. She furrowed her eyebrows as she unlocked the door of the Impala. "Yeah, he sounded scared," She looked between them both. "I don't Max is telling us the whole truth. We could find the old neighborhood and find out what the Miller's were really like." She entered the car, and was greeted with the stench of leather and male cologne.

<<>>

          Fiddling with the metal chain of her mother's ruby necklace, she distractedly gazed outside the window, not entirely listening to Sam and Dean's bickering. She shook her head as Sam explained his undecipherable tether between him and Max. She didn't understand though, they were hardly similarities shared between the youngest Winchester and the abused boy, well, excluding their psychic abilities. "He's no different than anything else we've hunted. All right? We got to end him." Dean parked the Impala, and Odessa gently jerked forwards. Sam looked baffled that Dean had suggested the idea of killing him.

          "We're not gonna kill Max." Sam demanded. 

          Odessa scoffed reticently, folding her arms. "What do you suggest, Sam? We can't just hand him over to the cops, and we can't let him roam free with his murderous tendencies. I'm sorry, I don't want to kill this kid, but we've got no other choice."

          Sam didn't appear affected by her counterargument. "Forget it. No way, guys," Odessa opened her mouth to retaliate, but was stopped by Sam. "Essie, he's a person. We can talk to him. Hey, guys, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one." Dean sent him a long, blank stare before sighing heavily and apprehensively agreeing. 

          "All right, fine. But I'm not letting him hurt anyone else." Dean replied as he grabbed his gun from his glove department. "But I'm not sure we can control Essie on this one."

          She leaned forward, clutching the metal magazine of her semi-automatic handgun, displaying the weapon for them both to see. As her arm was raised, she motioned for her golden serpent to slither momentarily. "I'm taking precautions. He tries anything, I can't guarantee I won't pull this trigger." She hastily exited the Impala and sped towards the doorway alongside them both. Dean forcefully shoved the door open and the wood from the doorway sprinkled the floor with shards of broken wood. There stood Max with tears stricken down his pale skin, and his mother whose fear transformed into confusion as the trio burst through her door. 

          "What are you doing here?" Max asked, shoulders tensing as his blue eyes flickered between them. As Dean feigned an apology, Odessa couldn't help but notice Max warily conceal the kitchen knife from view, to which Odessa went rigid and listened intently to the younger boy's heart beat erratically. Sam hesitantly stood forward, "Max, could we talk to you outside for just one second," Max asked why. "It's private. I wouldn't want to bother your mother with it. We wont be long at all, though. I promise." 

          Max's gaze swiftly returned to his mother before agreeing to their conditions. They all stepped forward and Dean reached to open the door, before the door was closed shut strenuously and the shutters of their windows were flicked closed. Max slowly backed away, "You're not priests!" He yelled as Dean hastily reached for his gun from his waistband, as did Odessa. Both their guns tossed forwards, and she mentally cursed herself. Max grabbed Dean's gun and aimed it towards them. His mother questioned him, ignoring his demands for her to remain silent. She stepped forward and was effortlessly tossed backwards, head banging against her countertop. 

          "Max," Odessa shouted, "You have to calm down." She raised her hands in surrender, waiting for the proper timing to unleash her serpent.

          "Who are you?" 

          Sam intervened, "We just want to talk to you."

          "Yeah, right. That's why you brought this!" Odessa nearly groaned aloud at this stubborn attitude, but decided against it.

          "That was a mistake, all right? So was lying about who we are, but no more lying, okay? Just, please, hear me out," Max shouted his confusion. "I saw you do it. I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened. I'm having visions, Max, about you." 

          Max shook his head, "You're crazy." 

           Dean cast him a blank expression. "So you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom, right here? Is it that hard to believe, Max? Look what you can do. Max, I was drawn here, all right? I think I'm here to help you." 

          Sobbing, Max replied. "No one can help me." 

          Odessa, apprehensively inched forward. "Let him try. You guys obviously have some connection, so just talk to him. You and him. Dean, your stepmom, and me, we'll leave." 

          Dean shook his head, humming his protests. Rattling from above them captured her attention, and she glanced upwards. The rattling derived from the minuscule lamp hanging from the ceiling, "Nobody leaves this house." 

          "No one has to, we can be upstairs," Dean muttered his protests only loud enough for her to hear. "Dean, we're gonna have to leave him. He's in charge. We all know that. We're not gonna do anything he doesn't want to be done. Just five minutes" 

          "Five minutes. Go." Odessa released a breath she wasn't aware she was holding and jutted her chin in Max's unconscious stepmother's direction. Dean nodded, and picked her up efficiently. They travel up the stairs in silence, and Dean cleans the strip of ruby on Max's stepmother's forehead. There is nothing to speak about, and Odessa is left to sit in silence as she fiddles with her mother's necklace. It must've been merely minutes, but it had felt like hours when the door creaked open, only to reveal Max alone. Odessa hastily stood, as did Dean, and they were both tossed against two separate walls. The gun is floating, aimed and cocked towards Dean, and Essie's first instinct is to step in front of Dean, shield him but as soon as she stepped, the gun is flicked in her direction.

          It's merely seconds before Max pulls the trigger when Sam bursts through the door, halting Max's actions. "Max, we can help you, all right? But this—what you're doing—it's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything." 

          "You're right." Max then aims the gun at his head and pulls the trigger. Odessa flinches and gasps as his body tumbles to the floor.

          "My god, how are we gonna cover this one up?" 

How long has it been since I've updated? Too long, that's for sure. So, this took me FOREVER to write, like honestly, I was going delete this whole chapter and re-write the whole thing. But considering this took me nearly a whole month to write, I decided against it. School is kicking my ass, like seriously, I'm done with it already. Anyways, thank you for reading and have a great day/night!