With a glistening grin, Odessa muffled her snickers with the over-sized flannel she's temporarily stolen from Dean, stuffing her nose into the fabric. She steadied her hand as she clicked the button on Dean's phone, making sure she'd gotten the full view of the lodged spoon in Sam's mouth. The camera shutter clicks, and she closes Dean's phone, giggling once more before handing him his phone. Glancing from the rearview mirror, she admires Dean's beaming smile as he cranked the volume of the stereo, banging his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel. She enjoyed when Dean relished in his momentary delight. With his father missing once again, she hadn't really seen his smile in ages.

Sam's eyes fluttered open, before they widened in panic and fumbled to tear the plastic spoon from his teeth. Odessa laughed, loudly, as Sam licked his lips in disgust and examined his hands while scoffing. "Ha Ha," Sam laughed sarcastically as he lowered the volume of the stereo. "Very funny." He sneered, wiping his chin. Although his tone was strident, Odessa was certain Sam wasn't upset. 

Dean chuckled. "Sorry. Not a lot of scenery here in East Texas—kind of got to make your own." 

Odessa leaned forward, laughing again. "And you Sammy boy, are by far the best scenery I've seen all day." She ruffled his shaggy hair, and she chose to disregard his glare from the rearview mirror. She reclined back against the leather interior of the Impala, folding her arms across her chest. 

"Man, we're not kids anymore, Dean. We're not gonna start that crap up again."  Dean feigned confusion as he asked what he meant. "That prank stuff. It's stupid, and it always escalates." Odessa felt a pang of envy and sorrow as she recalled her 'prank wars' when Costello was alive and breathing. Though she and him were frequently scolded of their improper and childish behavior, they continued their childlike antics until either one forfeited. Odessa shook her head. Thinking of Costello, and Moira, or even Drexel, reemerged entombed feelings of remorse. Attempting to push aside her shame, she mentioned something she remembered Dean once told her months ago. "Come on, Sam," She teased, "memories of your little Nair incident resurfacing? I wouldn't have pictured you as one to give up so easily." 

She smirked as Sam sighed, knowing she'd successfully gotten under his skin. Years of training in the art of manipulation does come in handy. "All right. Just remember, you both started it." She grinned, shaking her head softly as she peered intently at the passing blurs of green from the towering trees. "Where are we, anyway?" Sam appeared to be doing the same.

"A few hours outside of Richardson. Give me the lowdown again." 

Sam snatched the loose paper on the dashboard. "All right, about a month or two ago, this group of kids goes poking around this local haunted house—"

Dean intervened. "Haunted by what?" 

"Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit. Legend goes it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters. Anyway, this group of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar." 

Odessa furrowed her eyebrows. "So, did any of these teens I.D. the corpse?" She asked, fiddling with her gleaming curls. 

Sam glimpsed over his shoulder. "Well, that's the thing. By the time the cops got there, the body was gone. So the cops were saying the kids were just yanking chains." 

"Maybe the cops are right." Dean hummed.   

"Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids' firsthand accounts. They seem pretty sincere." Sam replied, looking at Dean. 

Odessa quirked an eyebrow. "And where exactly did you read these accounts," She questioned. Sam chuckled, which resembled a huff of air, and appeared to be hesitant on saying where. Informing them both that he'd gathered his information from a paranormal website called 'hellhoundslair.com'. Odessa scoffed, "Let me guess, streaming live from their mother's basement? Maybe even run a show out of their parent's garage?" 

Sam laughed, smiling brightly and his dimples on display. "Yeah, probably." It wasn't often she witnessed Sam laugh. It was relieving when he did though.

"Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit them in the pursqueeter." 

The corner's of Sam's lips tugged. "Look, we let dad take off, which was a mistake, by the way, and now we don't know where the hell he is. So meantime, we got to find ourselves something to hunt. There's no harm checking this thing out."

Dean seemed hesitant, but agreed nevertheless. "All right. Where do we find these kids?"

"Same place you always find kids in a town like this."

<<>>

Odessa nearly grimaced as the ominous bank of clouds above devised a grim atmosphere as she trudged in inches of newly-soaked mud. Patches of green and beige grass were what made the foundation of the crumbling home titled 'Hell House'. Antique power lines were placed beside the outmoded porch. The wooden panels the house consisted of were darkened from the faint rainfall, and the support beams seemed to be falling apart from the weight of the roof. Odessa approached the doorway, and scrunched her nose in distaste at the interior. 

The wallpaper was peeling, floor cluttered with heaps of leaves and other substances. The exposed bricks of the walls were a canvas of a variety of symbols and sigils. She recognized a majority of them, one she hadn't though. "Looks like old man Murdoch was a bit of a tagger during his time." Dean said, analyzing the different colored symbols. 

"And after his time, too. The reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries," Sam informed. "But the sigil of sulfur didn't show up in San Francisco until the 60's." He fished for his phone from his front pocket, taking a picture of the charcoal-black sigil.  

Dean stared at Sam with a blank face. "Exactly why you never get laid." Sam glared, shaking his head as he took another photo. 

Odessa shoved the older Winchester. "I knew that too," She declared, folding her arms across her chest. She sent Dean a pointed look. "And I still get laid. Maybe some people are attracted to intelligence. But you wouldn't know about that, would you?" Odessa retorted jokingly. Dean glared humorously, and pivoted to face the fire place. He eyed the maroon-colored symbol curiously. 

Stealing a glance at the raven-haired Guardian, he half-shrugged. "That's the difference between you and Sam, you're smoking hot," He notified, returning his intense gaze back at the unfamiliar design. Odessa snorted, trailing his gaze and scrutinizing the dribbling spray paint. "What about this one? You seen this one before," Sam stood beside Odessa, his camera's shutter clicking as he photographed the symbol. "I have...somewhere." 

Odessa stepped forward, sneakers crunching dried leaves. "Pretty certain that's paint. Seems fresh too," She glanced at the youngest Winchester. "Agreeing with any form of authority figures isn't necessarily my strong suit, but Sam, I'm not sure. I think the cops could be right about this." Sam mumbled something incoherently, and she opened her mouth to express her apologies but was interrupted by boisterous crash. Hastily reaching for the handle of her dagger, she gracefully clambered to the doorway where the sound derived from. Pulling open the door handle, she was blinded instantaneously by vivid flashlights. 

Shouts and fumbling men greeted Odessa and her boys as she concealed her eyes from the LED lights. Opening her eyes, she was hindered by Dean's leather jacket. "Cut. Just a couple humans. What are you guys doing here?" Odessa attempted to peer over the broad shoulders of the brothers, standing on her toes and moving their arms from their protective stance. Dean motioned his hands in a questioning manner. "What the hell are you doing here?" 

Appearing offended by Dean's question and tone, the man quirked an eyebrow. "Uh, we belong here. We're professionals." 

Odessa, forcefully shoved between their arms and examined the average-length men, stealthily  returned her blade in her waistband. "Professional what?" She towered over both men, her mocha-eyes carefully examined them. Both men's harsh gaze flickered from Sam and Dean, to the breathtaking woman. Their posture altered entirely, and eyes momentarily widened. The one with golden, curly hair fumbled for business cards and shakily handed Odessa the corner-bent card. She chuckled, raising her eyebrow as she read aloud. "Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spengler," She muttered, "You've got to be joking, you run the website 'hellhoundslair.com'?" 

The corners of the man's mouth curved upward. "Yeah," He cleared his throat. "You a fan?" Odessa feigned a smile, tucking the card in her blue sports-bra. She snuck a glance at Dean, pursing her lips. 

"Yeah, totally. Huge fans." 

"And we know who you are too," Sam questioned him, asking him what he'd meant by the that. "Amateurs looking for ghosts and cheap thrills." 

The man with black hair spoke. "Yeah, so, if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here." 

Dean, who'd been searching through the cabinets, examined an old-fashioned camera. "Yeah," He asked, "What do you got so far?"

Odessa refrained from snickering aloud as Harry and Ed explained the meaning and purpose of E.M.F. with an egotistical tone. She wondered if they were of the power lines about the home, the electromagnetic frequencies were interfering with the device and they assumed it was supernatural activity. She, Sam, and Dean feigned engrossed expressions as Harry disclosed his encounter with a supposed ghost. Well, they hadn't necessarily perceived the spirit, but she wasn't going to shatter their dreams. "I think I get the picture. We should go, let them get back to work." Dean said, clutching Odessa's hand as he dodged the paranormal investigators. 

Ed nodded, "Yeah, you should," He stated, and Harry harshly elbowed him in his lower abdomen, his gaze returned to the Guardian. "Well, I mean, you could stay. Watch us do our work a-and help us with ghost h-hunting." His confidence was faltering with each word, and Odessa quirked an eyebrow, pursing her lips to restrain herself from bursting with laughter. 

She shook her head, "Yeah, no thanks," She declined, "I'd rather not spend any time with you." She intertwined her fingers with Dean's and pulled him out of the room, concluding the warmth tingling up her arm was merely nothing.

<<>>

Odessa knees were beginning to ache as she remained crouched beside Dean as they peered through the branches leaf-less trees. The obscure, midnight sky was faintly illuminated with the several flashlights from the policemen and headlights from the vehicles. The yellow tape was firmly wrapped around the household, and the policemen were nonchalantly circling the grassy plain. "I guess the cops don't want anymore kids screwing around in there." Sam said softly.

She glanced at Dean, his features appeared more defined as the moonlight cascaded on his freckled skin. "Then how are going to get in there," She whispered, slowly backing away as she noticed their close proximity. "They don't look like they're leaving anytime soon." A twig snapped from the distance, and Odessa's attention was piqued as the familiar whispers rang through her ears. Sam and Dean's gaze remained fixated on the crime scene, and she knew her enhanced hearing was obtaining the sound. "I don't believe it, those idiots came back." She muttered, and both their heads trailed her gaze.

"I got an idea," Dean whispered, "Who you gonna call?" He shouted as he cupped around his mouth. Harry and Ed froze in their crouched positions and darted in the opposite direction. The policemen quickly chased after them into the forest.

The trio swiftly dashed into the household and loaded their rock-salt into the double-barreled shotguns. Dean aimed his flashlight towards the symbol they'd seen prior. "Where have I seen that symbol before? It's killing me." As they descended the creaky stairwell that eerily lead to the basement, Odessa raised her rocksalt-suffused weapon high. 

Regulating her breathing pattern, she directed her focal point to the delicate sounds of the home. Odessa considered this to be an impeccable moment, something she required to remain sane and collected as each bleak day carried on. This is what she preferred; adrenaline pumping, weapons aimed, and hellbent on saving innocent lives as she hunted with her boys. She wouldn't have it any other way.

Odessa straightened her back and flashed her beam over the array of contrasting jars, brimming with peculiar substances. Dean appeared beside her, grabbing one of the jars. "Hey, Essie, I dare you to take a swig of this." She gave him a bland look before  she lifted her eyebrows and scoffed as she eyed the jar.

"You're an idiot," She mumbled, shaking her head softly. "Why the hell would I do that for?" The coral-shaded substance contained minuscule remnants of Odessa could only assume was mold. 

Dean grinned enthusiastically, "For one steamy night with me," He joked, grin faltering as she snickered and shook her head 'no'. "Fifty bucks and I'll buy you your favorite ice cream." He suggested, offering the raven-haired hunter the jar. 

Her eyes momentarily widened, "You're on—" Scraping on the wooden panels from the distance rang through the ominous atmosphere. All humor demolished from both their expressions as Dean swiftly placed the jar back on the shelf. They rushed in the direction of the noise and came across a green closet. Odessa aimed her gun, fingertip grazing the trigger as she mentally prepared herself. She signaled for Sam to yank open the door, and when he did, they were greeted with squeaks of furry rats. 

Dean groaned in aversion. "Ugh, I hate rats."

"You'd rather it was a ghost?" Sam questioned.

Odessa chuckled, and opened her mouth to retort some form of belittling comment but froze as the puff of water vapor escaped her lips. The vague growling was increasingly becoming closer, she hastily spun on her heel. She shrieked, the ghost was merely inches from Dean, and pulled the trigger, as did Sam. "What the hell kind of spirit is immune to rocksalt?" He shouted.

Panicked, she grabbed Dean's hand. "I don't know,but  come on, let's go." Tumbling up the stairwell, her grasp on Dean was involuntarily released as he was carelessly tossed on the shelves where the mystery jars were placed. "Dean!" She ignored Sam's protests to leave as he distracted the ghost. "Come on, get up." Shards of shattered glass pricked her palms as she steadied herself on the concrete. He grabbed her forearm and hoisted himself off the floor. 

She didn't released Dean's hand until she was out the household and on the porch, wintry breeze colliding on her skin as they were thrown against the door, it shattering into pieces as they toppled over each other and fell atop the grass. The dewy grass dampened her clothing, and she forced herself to not grow angry over her tarnished clothing. She nearly groaned as she looked up and saw Harry and Ed with their 'equipment'. "Get that damn thing out of my face." Dean growled, and pulled Odessa up from the floor before charging into the distance.

<<>>

Wearily entering the motel room alongside Dean, Odessa yawned as she tossed the Impala's keys atop the wooden tabletop. The water from the shower was running, steam flowing through the door's crevice. She, unwillingly, purchased itching powder for Dean's newest prank, which she considered to be dull and standardized. However, she didn't complain in the slightest. Dean was beaming with keen enthusiasm, and she wasn't going to lessen his amusement. "Hey, we're back," Dean shouted, shaking the itching powder down the floppy openings of Sam's black underwear. The water stopped, and she chuckled as Dean fumbled to get the remaining powder down his underwear. Sam shouted back, asking where they'd gone. "Oh, we went out for some ice cream." 

"So, I think I have a theory about what's going on," Sam bellowed, "What if Mordechai is a Tulpa?" 

Odessa scrunched her nose, "Tulpa?" 

The bathroom door creaked open. Sam was wrapped in only a bath towel around his waistline as his dampened hair was dribbling water down his skin. "Yeah, a Tibetan thought form." 

She eyed his glistening skin, and shrugged thoughtfully. "Impressive, let me know when you're taking a shower next time," She feigned a flirtatious wink before snorting. "And I know what a Tulpa is, sweetheart. Get dressed, we're going to go eat." She informed before tossing Sam's shirt his way.

<<>>

Odessa fiddled with a loose package of sugar as Sam and Dean spoke among themselves, patiently waiting for the trio's coffee. There was indistinguishable mutters of the eased strangers and clinking of utensils upon glass plates. She watched as Sam attempted to readjust his underwear as an uncomfortable expression dawned across his face. She mumbled a 'thank you' as she grabbed the cup holder from the counter and hurried to their table. Tossing the sugar towards Sam, she grabbed Dean's coffee and sipped it, smacking her lips together as she handed it back. 

He paused, and questionably glanced at her. She shrugged casually, sipping her own now. "I was making sure it wasn't hot," She said, swallowing the bitter sweet liquid. "I didn't want you to burn your tongue. Speaking of, it's hot so be careful." Dean nodded slowly, mouth opening and closing as he attempted to form a sentence from his incoherent mumbles. Odessa pursed her lips, nodding as the atmosphere abruptly grew awkward. Had no one made sure he didn't burn his tongue before? Sam cleared his throat, and continued their conversation about the Tulpa and its possible origin. 

"I mean, Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard." 

Odessa was bewildered. "Hold up, you're meaning to tell me because people believe in Mordechai, he suddenly becomes real?" She muffled her snickering into the coffee lid as she drank slowly. Sam was shifting in his seat, frowning as he worriedly wondered what was happening. 

He snapped his head in her direction. "I don't know. Maybe." He said, typing on his laptop.

Dean squinted his eyes as he processed the information. "People believe in Santa Claus. How come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?" 

"'Cause you're a bad person and 'cause of this," Sam said, displaying his laptop's screen for both Odessa and Dean to see. "That's a Tibetan spirit sigil on the wall of the house. Craig said they were paining symbols from a theology textbook. I bet you they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the hellhounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai. I mean, I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life."

"It would explain why it keeps changing." Dean said, taking large gulps of his coffee.

Sam shuffled again. "Right—as the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rocksalt didn't work." 

Odessa nodded thoughtfully, "Oh, because he's not a typical spirit," She responded, "Some twisted telephone game. Okay, so why don't we just get the sigil off the wall, delete the website?" 

She nudged Dean gently on his ribcage as she witnessed Sam shuffling in his seat. "Well, it's not that simple. You see, once Tulpas are created, they take a life of their own." He bit back a grin, as did she.

Rubbing his nose, Dean gathered his composure. "All right, so if he really is a thought form, how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?" 

"Well, it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage," Odessa scoffed as she watched the footage they collected from the night prior. "Since they posted the video, the number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone." 

Odessa reached over the laptop to grab a sugar packet. "I have an idea, come on, we're gonna find a copy store," She said, pushing herself off the chair. 

"Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something." Odessa couldn't refrain from laughing aloud as she walked beside Dean, who was also laughing. He looked at her with wide eyes, jaw agape. "You helped him?"  He questioned, gathering his possessions from the tabletop. "You're a friggin' jerk. I'm so getting you back."

She grimaced, "Technically, I just bought the itching powder, but yes, I assisted." She chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye. "And I'd like to see you try, itchy pants."

<<>>

Odessa earned bewildered expression's from both Sam and Dean as she suggested she track Harry and Ed with a false death certificate, much to her dismay. Those men, if she could even call them that, had made the entire hunt unnecessarily difficult, and she wanted nothing more than to jab her dagger into both their carotid arteries. Although she preferred if she hadn't seen them again, this was their only plausible solution. Seconds after Dean's heavy knocking, both 'paranormal investigators' opened the door and stuck their heads out. "Look at that," Dean said, nudging her side. "Action figures in their original packaging—what a shocker." Sure enough, Odessa peered over their shoulders and saw the miniature figures carefully on display.

Sam sighed, ignoring Dean's comment. "Guys, we need to talk." Ed exited the vehicle, as did Harry. 

"Yeah, um, sorry, guys. We're a little bit busy right now." 

Dean remained unfazed. "Okay, well, we'll make it quick. We need you to shut down your website." 

Ed scoffed, "You know, man, these guys get us busted last night. We spend the night in a holding cell—"   

"I had to pee in that cell urinal in front of people, and I get stage fright." Harry intervened, jutting his index fingers between the three. 

Ed continued, "Why should we trust you guys?" Odessa exhaled sharply, progressively growing irked with each second.

"Look, we all know what we saw in that house last night, what's in the house. But now, thanks to your website, there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai."

Odessa nodded softly, "That's right, which means more people are going to continue on this search for him, which eventually will lead to more deaths and people getting hurt." Harry, who seemed to be affected by Odessa's words in the slightest, suggested she was right. Ed immediately dismissed the suggestion as he shook his head 'no'. 

"We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth." 

Odessa chuckled humorlessly, yanking the handle of her dagger from her waistband. Any source of emotion was void as she spoke. "Well, I have the obligation kick both of your pathetic, little asses right now." She sneered threateningly, inching forward before Dean extended his arm outward, blocking her from continuing forward. Harry's eyes widened as he stepped back into Ed, who also appeared frightened. The trio knew she wasn't going to physically harm either of them. They, however, didn't know that.

"Essie, hey, hey. Just forget it, all right? These guys—we all know you can bitch-slap both of them while you do your nails at the same time," Ed seemed offended Sam would suggest she could harm them. "I could probably even tell them that thing about Mordechai. But they're still not gonna help us. So let's just go." A string of incoherent protests and apologies escaped their mouths as the trio feigned defeated expressions as they returned to the Impala. Odessa's plan was working thoroughly. 

"Yeah, what thing about Mordechai, you guys?" 

"Tell them, Sam"

"But if they agree to shut their website down, Dean—" 

Essie interrupted, "Forget it, they're not going to do it. You said so yourself." 

"No, wait, wait. Don't listen to her, okay? We'll do it." 

After they had given their word, Dean 'reluctantly' pulled the death certificate from his back pocket. "It's a death certificate from the thirties, which we got from the library. According to the corner, Mordechai's actual death was caused by a self-inflicted gunshot wound. This guy didn't hang or cut himself. He shot himself with a .45 pistol. And even to this day, they say he's terrified of them. I've even read if you shoot him with this pistol and special wrought-iron rounds, you could kill him." 

They were mesmerized with the story, and immediately darted back inside their RV with delighted expressions.

<<>>

After the superglue incident at the diner, which she purchased for Sam, though she'd never admit to aloud, Odessa and her boys hastily darted through the abandoned home. Her personalized semi-automatic handgun was loaded with iron-rounds and she firmly gripped her flashlight as she aimed into nothingness. "I barely have any skin left on my palm." Odessa snickered, her filthy thoughts arising. She assisted him with yanking the beer bottle off his hand, then tended his wounded skin soothingly. "I'm not touching that line with a ten-foot pole." Sam replied, grimacing as Dean shined his face with his own flashlight.

They returned to the door where they first encountered Ed and Harry, to which she was internally pleased as she opened the door and wasn't approached by either of the paranormal investigators. She flashed the beam on the wooden door ahead, pressing the hammer down and grasping the grip tighter. "Well, you think old Mordechai is home?" Dean questioned, sparing a glance at the raven-haired beauty beside him. She gave him a half-shrug, muttering a single 'I don't know'. 

"Me neither." A familiar voice said from behind them, and Odessa swiftly reacted. She pivoted and aimed her weapon high. Both Ed and Harry raised their hands in surrender and declared their protests. Odessa released a breath she wasn't aware she was holding, and settled her arms by her side. 

"What the hell is wrong with you two? We could've killed you." She shouted, rage lacing each word. 

Ed responded shakily, "We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?" Sam opened his mouth to retaliate, but the scraping from the other room gathered everyone's attention. Odessa returned her aim and gaze back at the door, anger for the two idiots diminished. "Uh, guys, you want to open that door for us?" 

Odessa scoffed, "You both suck at being paranormal investigators." Merely seconds after she spoke, Mordechai busted through the door, and she immediately pressed the trigger repeatedly. Bursts of light filled the room as they all at the apparition until he faded into the wind. Odessa arched her brow, wincing as Ed slammed into her as Mordechai smacked the camera from his hand pushed him onto the ground. "Why isn't this working? Didn't you two post the B.S story we gave you?" 

"Of course we did." 

"Yeah, but then our server crashed." 

Odessa groaned inwardly. "So these guns don't work," She peered at Dean with unease. "That's just fucking great. Sam, Dean, any ideas?" She didn't refrain either of Ed or Harry as they declared their departure, concluding it'd be best if they had just left. However, their screeches caught her attention and she dashed in their direction. She nearly rolled her eyes as Ed was shouting ineffectual passages from what she assumed was the Bible. She stuffed her gun in her waistband, praying this would work. 

"Hey," She shouted, "Come get me, you son of a bitch!" Mordechai's morbid groans filled her ears as he swung his ax in her head's general direction. Odessa swiftly ducked, and caught the handle as he swung again. He used this to his advantage and pushed her against the wall, violently setting the wooden handle of his ax on her throat. Her eyes widened as she realized she wasn't receiving any oxygen. He lifted her off the ground, and she struggled to push his handle off of her. "Get out of here, you dumbasses." She managed to say. Each breath was beginning to become less and less, and her head was thumping, a reminder that her heart was inevitably slowing down. "Dean!" 

Her vision was blackening, and blotches of fiery orange emerged from the obscure void. Mordechai abruptly vanished into thin air, quite literally, and Odessa was pulled into the living room. "If Mordechai can't leave the house and we can't kill him, we improvise." She coughed, and nodded as he lighted his lighter and tossed it onto the wooden panels on the floor. He clutched her hand tightly, as if she was going to be dragged from his grasp, and tugged her outside of the home. 

"That's your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?"

"No one will go in anymore," Noticing Sam's bewildered and wide eyes, he continued. "Look, he can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty, but it works." 

Odessa coughed, clutching her throat. "But what if the legend changes? What if he is allowed to leave the house?" 

Dean seemed as if he hadn't thought of that yet, and he shrugged. "Well, then, we'll just have to come back."

"Kind of makes you wonder—of all the things we hunted, how many existed just 'cause people believed in them.

Inhaling deeply, Odessa grabbed Dean's arm. "I need a nap," And she pondered for a mere second, grinning tightly. "And I need to make a phone call."

I AM SO DONE WITH WRITING THIS EPISODE OMG! THIS WAS SO EXHAUSTING BUT I AM SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN A LONG TIME! BUT THANK YOU FOR READING AND HAVE A LOVELY DAY/NIGHT! AND THANK YOU FOR THE VETERANS WHO SERVED FOR OUR COUNTRY