Odessa released a shaky sigh as she twisted the knob of the abandoned home, quickly pressing the button on her flashlight's handle. A beam of golden light illuminated her a distinct path as continued onward from the doorway. Her eyes briefly widened as she regarded the utter destruction of Elkin's home. She shined the beam all throughout the wooden floorboards, observing the shards of shattered glass and heaps of disheveled paper. "Looks like the maid didn't come today." Dean stated, taking notice of the mess as well. 

A brief moment of silence was exchanged as Odessa evaded the shards of glass as best as she could, taking in the cluttered mess with a questionable gaze. "Hey, there's salt over here, right inside the door." Dean quickly peered over his shoulder, returning his gaze on the leather-wrapped journal. The resemblance of the journal in Dean's palm was uncanny from his father's journal; however, this one had been evidently thicker. 

"You mean, like, protection-against-demon salt or 'oops I dropped popcorn' salt?" Odessa chuckled softly, soundlessly ambling beside him. She scrutinized the series of pages with furrowed brows. There were few which were folded by the edges, majority were creased from the senility of the pages. The erratic scribbles were nearly illegible and the newspaper articles dated back from the sixties. 

"It's clearly a ring," The floorboards creaked as Sam stood from his crouched position. "You think this guy Elkins was a player?" He asked, inching near the duo. 

Odessa flashed the pages, peering over her shoulder as Sam effortlessly towered over her. "Definitely," She mumbled, fingers grazing the outer edge of the page. "This looks a lot like your fathers." Dean pulled the journal towards him, directing the beam of light at the upper corner of the page. She briefly glanced at his profile, clandestinely appreciating the refinement of his features. The fluttering sensation blossomed as she pondered on her recent discovery, the distinctive affection she held for Dean was astonishing to realize, especially after a year of traveling beside him.

The bewildering revelation was certainly intimidating and alarming, there was nothing more she wanted than for these feelings to quickly vanish. There were multiple nights where laid awake with overwhelming thoughts, shouting for her to knock some sense into herself. She was more than aware of her stupidity for allowing herself to grow fond of Dean, knowing that clouded her judgement on battlefield, and which evidently made Dean a target for those who desired to shatter Odessa. She was aware of her lunacy; however, she continued to remain dazzled by his shimmering green eyes. 

Sam faintly nudged her abdomen, and she flinched from her contemplating thoughts. Her head swiftly craned in his direction, shooting him an interrogative glance. Eyebrows furrowed, he squinted as he jutted his chin in Dean's direction—almost as if he were questioning her lingering stares. Odessa was entirely appreciative of the absence of light, considering a burning crimson coated her cheeks. She quickly evaded Sam's gaze, pushing past his and Dean's broad shoulders. Ambling to the wooden stairwell, she beamed the light on the floorboards, inwardly wincing as the shards of glass crunched under her weight. 

Odessa entered the one of the several rooms, regarding the shattered glass, broken book shelves, and scattered papers. A breeze tickled her exposed skin, and she shivered as puffs of vapor escaped her lips. The door was ripped from the hinges, idly placed beside the doorframe. Sam and Dean were not far behind, flashing their beams on the ceiling. "Whatever attacked him, looks like there was more than one." Sam said. She looked upward, realizing that's where the draft derived from.

Dean returned his flashlight to his chest. "Looks like he put up a hell of a fight, too." Both Sam and Odessa mumbled an agreement, departing their ways as they examined the discarded items. With the back of her heels, she shoved a bloodied book aside, analyzing a wooden box which seemed to safely secure a gun. It hadn't mattered, the casing was empty. 

Sam halted, "Got something?" He asked, walking in Dean's direction.

Dean's fingers cautiously grazed the floorboards, droplets of blood staining his fingertips. "I don't know. Some scratches on the floor."

"Death throes, maybe?" Sam suggested.

Dean appeared dazed, not entirely convinced. "Yeah, maybe." He reached for a blank piece of paper from the desk behind him, and a simple wooden pencil. Knocking the paper securely, he scribbled atop the paper. "Or maybe a message. Look familiar?" He lifted the paper from the blood-stained floor, handing it to Sam. 

Sam flashed the light on the paper. "Three letters, six digits—"

Odessa stepped forward, "That's the location and combination of a post office box," She declared, eyebrows scrunched together. "It's a mail drop. Why is this familiar to you?" 

Dean raised his gaze to her. "That's just the way dad does it." 

<<>>

"'J.W.—you think? John Winchester?" Sam questioned.

Odessa's eyes glimmered as Sam and Dean carefully examined the letter they gathered from post office. There hastily scrawled across the envelope was 'J.W' in black ink. Dean clutched the paper with firm fingers, his chest was heaving upward and downward as intently stared down at the letter with panicked anticipation. "I don't know. Should we open it?" Odessa opened her mouth to voice her thoughts, suggest they should open it, disregarding the invasion of privacy; much to her dismay, an unexpected knock on the window rang through the air.

She gasped, clutching the handle of the dagger Dean purchased for her. Her grasp eased as the unidentified figure crouched and revealed his face. "Dad?" Dean mumbled, trailing his father haste movements. John quickly unlocked the door and scooted beside Odessa, who scampered to the side. She watched as Sam and Dean shared a befuddled expression, and turned to face their father.

Sam spoke first. "Dad, what are you doing here? Are you all right?" 

John nodded softly, "Yeah, I'm okay. Look, I read the news about Daniel. I got here as fast as I could," He sighed heavily. "I saw you three up at his place." 

Odessa shuffled in her seat, quirking an eyebrow. "Why didn't you come in?" She asked, not thoroughly understanding why John continued to reappear when he desired. 

John glimpsed toward her, "I don't know you very well, but I think you know why," He said, "I had to make sure you weren't followed by anyone or anything," His gaze flickered between both his sons. "Nice job of covering your tracks, by the way." 

The corners of Dean's mouth curved. "Yeah, well, we learned from the best." 

"Wait, so you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" 

John pursed his lips, "Yeah," He muttered, "He was—he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting." The despair was evident on his expression, each word he spoke was coated with an intent layer of gloom. 

Sam hadn't appeared fazed by his father's anguish, merely distraught his father was inches from him. "You never mentioned him to us." 

Lowering his head low, John licked his lips. "We had—we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years," His gaze fixed on the envelope. "I should look at that." Dean hastily handed John the letter, and John opened and unfolded the sheets of paper. He began reading aloud, halting as realization dawned upon his features. "That son of a bitch. He had it the whole time," He ignored Sam and Dean's questions. "When you searched the place, did you see a gun, an antique, a colt revolver? Did you see it?" 

Odessa furrowed her eyebrows, nearly lurching forward. "Yeah, actually," She interjected, gathering the three's attention. "It was an old case, but it was empty." 

"They have it." 

She narrowed her eyes, attempting to understand the situation. "Who has what? You mean whatever killed Elkins?" She demanded.

John sighed sharply, scooting towards the door. "We got to pick up their trail." Unlocking the door once again, he dashed out into the wintry weather. Dean shared yet another bewildered expression with Sam. 

"Wait. You want us to come with you?" 

John rested his forearm on the windowsill of the car door. "If Elkins is telling the truth, we've got to find this gun," Sam leaned forward, questioning his father as to why he needed the gun. "Because it's important, that's why." 

"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet." Sam objected.

"They were what Danny Elkins killed best," He paused, "Vampires."

Odessa sighed, reclining her back against the leather seat. She despised hunting vampires, though she hadn't seen one nearly for a year while hunting alongside the Winchesters, because they were merely narcissistic creatures who believed they were above all. "Vampires," Dean repeated, "I thought there was no such thing."    

Sam scrunched up his face. "You never even mentioned them, dad."

John glanced down at his hands. "I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and others wiped them out," He paused, thoughtfully nodding his head. "I was wrong." Sam and Dean exchanged a questioning look.

Moments passed as Odessa perched herself on the opposite side of the Impala, drumming her fingers against the leather seat. "The thing about vampires, majority of the lore is bull," She mused, "Crosses won't repel them, the whole sunlight thing is crap and won't kill them, neither will a stake to the heart. Only way is to cut their head off," She asserted, folding her arms across her chest. "The bloodlust however, is true. Fresh human blood is the only way to survive." 

John's fixed stare remained on her, appearing vaguely impressed. "They were once people so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late." 

<<>>

Much to Odessa's dismay, she was abruptly awakened by John's vehement tone as slapped her calf to awaken her from her slumber. She currently was settled on the trunk of the Impala, clutching her forearm as her rune mildly tingled. The sensation bubbled in the midst of midnight, to which it was bearable; now, however, the sensitivity of her skin was increasing and each movement ignited a wave of flames. "I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him?" Sam questioned, piquing her attention from her arm. 

Dean pivoted, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, don't tell me it's already starting." Odessa rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She truly believed they'd push their differences aside for the sake of their father's return. 

Sam bobbed his head. "What's starting?" Dean remained silent, turning to face the approaching footsteps of John and asked what he discovered. Sam narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, then craning his neck to face Odessa, to which she gave him a half-shrug and directed her gaze on John. 

John, with his palms stuffed in his jacket's pockets, halted. "It was them all right. It looks like they're heading west. We have to double back to get around that detour." 

"How can you be so sure?" 

Odessa pushed herself off the trunk, placing her hand on Sam's elbow. "Sam..." She attempted to warn him, but he merely shrugged her off. 

"I just want to know we're going in the right direction." 

John didn't seem amused, simply irked by his son's disrespectful tone. "We are," Sam hadn't seemed to agree and questioned how he knew. "I found this." He fished for an minuscule item in his pocket, handing it over to Dean. The cream-colored denticle nearly shined on his palm, and she was certain the vampires had taken the couple. 

Dean squinted as he examined the tooth. "Is that a vampire fang?" 

Odessa shook her head, shifting her weight on her feet. "Vampires don't have fangs, they've got teeth. The second set only reveal when they're going to attack." She corrected, evading Dean's gaze. 

John nodded, agreeing with her statement "Any more questions," Sam clenched his jaw, tearing away from his heavy gaze. "All right, let's get out of here. We're losing daylight," He glimpsed at the Impala's lustering radiance, which was thinly laminated with dust and dirt. "And, Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were gonna ruin it." Odessa froze, and scoffed as John's door closed with a bang. 

She unlocked her door, frowning in Dean's direction. "The car looks fine, Dean," She commented dully, noticing his wandering eyes on the roof of the car. "Looks way better than his piece-of-shit truck he has." She ducked and entered the backseat, and smiled as she heard Sam chuckle.

Concealed from view, Dean's once sorrowful expression instantaneously altered into a ghostly grin as he pulled open his door, crouching and entering the passenger side. 

<<>>

The atmosphere was thickened by an obscure edge of distressing ineptitude as she attempted to observe the vampire's secluded sanctuary. The silence exchanged between John and Sam was nearly deafening, and Odessa desired nothing more than for someone to mutter something along the the lines of an apology, anything to rid the reticence. She hadn't uttered a single word as she, Sam, and Dean continued trailing John's truck through the desolate streets. Truthfully, she'd been apprehensive primarily because Sam's expression was alarmingly ghastly, and she hadn't wanted to trigger some form of explosion from him.

The sudden altercation between Sam and John was entirely unexpected, and the words exchanged were brutal. Odessa didn't know how to manage a situation like that, and could only watch as the scene unfolded alongside Dean. She wasn't aware of how problematic Sam's absence had been for John, and she nearly pitied him; nevertheless, that was no excuse for the harsh words exchanged between either of them. 

Odessa was crouched beside John, intently watching as two vampires discreetly conversed outside an abandoned farmhouse, well, it wasn't entirely abandoned. She heard Dean mutter something, she hadn't properly heard considering she was focusing her attention on the mumbles deriving from the creatures fifty-feet away. "No," John said, "Direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn. The only way to kill them is like Odessa said, beheading. And, yeah, they sleep during the day. It doesn't mean they won't wake up." 

Dean raised his eyebrows. "So I guess walking right in's not our best option." 

Odessa massaged her forearm gingerly, nearly wincing as her palm contacted the sensitive skin. The searing sensation was beginning to grow repetitive, re-flourishing every couple hours. "Actually, that's the plan." Odessa furrowed her eyebrows, stealing a glance at Dean to make sure she heard his father correctly. Taking notice of both Sam and Dean's bewildered expression's, she wondered if John was trying to kill them all. 

Minutes passed when Odessa was adjusting her leather holster for her machete. "Maldito idiota, tratando de matarnos a todos," She muttered, "Que necesita un machete tan grande?" Sam peered down at her, evidently amused by her string of curses and rambles, to which she merely shrugged and tossed her hair into a high ponytail. 

John rested his forearms on the trunk. "So," He said, "You boys really want to know about this colt," The trio froze, and they all exchanged wondrous glances. "It's just a story. A legend, really. Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter. Back in 1835, when Halley's Comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter—a man like us, only on horseback.

The story goes he made thirteen bullets. This hunter used the gun half a dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. Somehow, Daniel got his hands on it. They say—they say this gun can kill anything." 

Odessa quirked an eyebrow. "Kill anything, like supernatural anything?" She asked, inching forward. 

Sam seemed to connect the pieces. "Like the demon." 

John nodded his head in confirmation. "Yeah, the demon. Ever since I picked up its trail, I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun...we may have it." 

Odessa closed the trunk, turning to make her way to the abandoned farmhouse to which she was pulled back by John's firm grasp on her wrist. She glanced down at his encircling fingers, biting back her wince. "Your shoes, they're going to make too much noise," He asserted solemnly, "You should go back and change, we'll take it from here." She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes fiercely as she yanked her hand back.

Odessa scoffed, "I've been doing this twenty-five years, and I've successfully killed bigger nests than this in seven-inch heels," She unsheathed her machete. "Don't treat me like I'm a child." She whirled around, insolently flipping her hair behind her shoulder. The back of the barn revealed a large opening wide enough for each to enter one at a time. Just as she predicted, landing on the stack of hay and concrete was as silent as a squeak of a mouse. 

Upon entering the farmhouse, Odessa examined the hanging hammocks, securely wrapping the slumbering vampires. Their heavy breathing was distinct, and the occasional groan as they shifted in their sleep was incredibly troubling. Clanking of empty glass bottles echoed through the air, and she froze, casting a concerned look in Dean's direction. He too remained motionless as he watched for a reaction from the creature. He looked up at her, nodding in confirmation. "Essie," She heard Sam mumbled, hardly coherent. "Come here." She tore her gaze from him, and quickly scurried in Sam's route. 

The faint stench of dried blood suffused her nose as inched closer to the woman Sam was trying to unfasten from ropes. She yanked the dagger Dean had gotten her from her waistband and handed him the glistening item. Sam accepted and glanced down, eyeing the dagger curiously. He twirled the blade around, chuckling as he shook his head before reaching to slice the ropes. She furrowed her brows, reticently pondering on Sam's unusual reaction. 

From the distance, metal hinges snapped vehemently. Odessa froze once more, glancing behind her where Dean stood against a metal cage. The woman's eyes gradually fluttered open, and Odessa's expression softened. "We're here to help you, shh—" The woman's eyes widened and she released an inhumane screech, teeth bared threateningly. The Guardian gasped and fell on back, scooting away from the creature. Hastily, Dean was by her within seconds, guiding her on her feet. 

The slumbering vampires quickly awakened, darting to the source. "Boys, run!" Dean's hand intertwined with her, dragging Odessa towards the door as he shouted for his father. She kicked the wooden panels and was greeted with blinding sunlight and warmth. Twigs and dried leaves crunched under her footsteps as she dashed to the Impala. She and Dean halted, chests heaving as their eyes scanned the field for John, who had yet to make an appearance. Dean shouted for John again, and again. 

Heavy footsteps filled her ears, and she sighed in relief as John sprinted through the trees. "They won't follow. They'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire gets your scent, it's for life." 

"What the hell do we do now?" Dean asked.

"You got to find the nearest funeral home, that's what."

Odessa rolled her eyes at his dramatics, and jerked her dagger from Sam's grasp, returning it between her waistband and skin. "Jodido pesimista." 

<<>>

Wearily, Odessa fiddled with her onyx-blade, back reclined against one of the several corridors of the morgue she and Dean were planning to illegally invade. She was thoroughly planning on fighting security guards, break the law, and remove a dead man's blood, and the only thing she could think about was the warmth of Dean's arm radiating through her sleeve. She felt utterly pathetic, like an elementary schoolgirl seeing her crush. 

Oh, god, crush was such a vulgar thing to even consider Dean, even though she was doubtlessly certain it was indeed a crush. Upon discovering her feelings, she practically despised hunting with him. She couldn't think straight, something she knew was going to happen, and now she was more concerned about Dean's safety more than anything else. She truly was pathetic. "All right," Dean whispered, breath tickling her earlobe. "What's the plan?" She faced him, shrugging nonchalantly as she peered up at him through her lashes. There was a sense of familiarity as she swiftly glanced down at his parted lips, wondering how his lips felt against hers. She softly shook her head, tossing her thoughts aside. She observed the man behind the desk, he was answering phone calls and mindlessly typing on his keyboard. 

There was no way the man was allowing two random strangers to enter the morgue without any form of verification. There weren't many people around, few nurses and the occasional doctor and patient. The male secretary was largely built, and easily towered over Odessa. "I can go back to Baby," He suggested, "Get us some of our fake ID's—" She sighed, quickly stuffing her dagger back in her waistband and sauntered towards the desk. She clutched the lapels of the secretary's blouse and forcefully yanked down, vigorously colliding his nose against the keyboard and successfully retrieving the card that granted permission to enter.

Blood stained her hand as she carelessly tossed him behind the desk, concealing him from view. Dean frantically searched in all directions, eyes wide and mouth agape. "That was your plan," He sneered, gesturing to the unconscious man. "Knock some guy out?" She quirked an eyebrow, slowly nodding, unsure of the problem. He scoffed, ruffling his hair. He snuck one more glance of the man and shook his head, snatching the verification card from her hand. 

She spread her arms wide in a questioning manner, "What," She asked, motioning to the card. "I got us access, didn't I? Just hand me the jar and I'll—" 

Dean chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. "Not gonna happen," He said, jaunting to the door where the sign 'Morgue' was placed on top of. "Just don't touch anything, or smash anyone's face in." He entered the room and forced Odessa to remain guard, to signal if any form of security entered the vicinity. She glared, then rolled her eyes. She wasn't a child.

Several minutes passed, and Odessa was beginning to wonder if Dean even knew what he was doing. She was leaning against yet another corridor wall, patiently waiting for him to return with the blood-suffused jar. Footsteps from the opposite end of the hallway captured her attention, and her eyes widened as a security guard raced in Odessa's direction, speaking into his attached radio. She stiffened, and straightened her posture as he was only feet away. "Excuse me, ma'am, I'm going to need you to come with—" A sickening crack echoed as Odessa's fist struck his nose, and tumbled to the marble flooring. 

She scrutinized the unconscious security guard, and fixed her gaze on her clamped fist. What the fuck? The door behind her clicked open, and Dean's head popped out the doorway, glancing both ways before his gaze landed on her, then the man. He clenched his jaw, sighing heavily as he tightly closed his eyes, seeming to reconsider their friendship. "Odessa, honestly," He said, "What the hell is wrong with you?" 

This was all his fault. Him, and his perfect smile, eyes, and personality. Oh, who was she kidding? He clouded her actions, made her jittery, and had her heart thumping quicker than a galloping horse. "I panicked," Her ears perked, "And we need to go now, there's more coming." She whirled around and attempted to exit the building side by side with Dean, who stuffed the dead man's blood in his jacket. 

<<>>

Odessa, after assisting Sam soak the arrowheads with the dead man's blood,  she anxiously watched as feigned a troubled demeanor while leaning against the Impala's opened hood. Her crossbow was loaded with an arrow, and Sam continued to send her quizzical glances for her irregular behavior. With unusual haste, the female vampire abruptly appeared in the midst of the barren road, head tilted with her chest out dominantly. "Car trouble," She asked, fabricating an inquisitive tone. "Let me give you a lift. Take you back to my place." She proposed suggestively, amorously eyeing him. 

The Guardian refrained from groaning aloud in aversion, with her lack of enticing coquetry and amount of jean fabrics. "I'll pass. I usually draw the line at necrophilia." She 'ooh'ed mockingly and pummeled her clenched fist into his jaw. Dean was instantly tossed against the Impala, and groaned while trying to shake it off. Odessa lurched forward, only to be stopped by John's extended arm. Another vampire emerged from the shadows, watching the scene unfold with a putrid grin. 

The female vampire gripped Dean by cheeks, lifting him off his feet efficiently. "I don't normally get this friendly till the second date but—" 

"You know, we could have some fun. I always like to make new friends." She gradually lowered him, sloppily smashing her thin lips atop his, seeming to relish his flavor. Odessa tore her gaze from the performance, jealously bubbling. 

Dean didn't seem pleased. "Oh, sorry. I never really stay with a chick that long. Definitely not eternity." Odessa wasn't sure why his words stung, she knew Dean wasn't going to ever consider as a significant other; and yet, her head thumped as his words echoed mockingly. She and Sam pressed the crossbow's trigger. She made sure to aim where it would hurt; her heart. 

The female vampire released Dean, peering down at the arrow protruding from her chest. "Damn it," Odessa smirked maliciously. "Barely even stings." She said as the trio materialized into sight. 

Odessa scoffed, cocking her head. "Oh, sweetheart, give it some time," She taunted, narrowing her eyes. "Dead man's blood takes a while." The vampire's grin diminished within seconds. She blinked repeatedly before loosing her balance and landed in Dean's arms. 

John sighed heavily, settling his crossbow on his shoulder. "Load her up. I'll take care of this one." He unsheathed his machete and nodded in confirmation. Odessa lowered her machete, nodding silently and followed Dean. 

<<>>

Odessa concluded she truly despised John Winchester. He spoke to Sam and Dean as if they were children, barking orders and demanding respect when he'd given them no reason to. Repetitively shouting at Sam merely for wanting a normal life, treating Dean as if he were some soldier, not his son. Therefore she somewhat apprehensive on accepting John's demand on leaving him alone after they empty out the nest while he retrieved the Colt. As John departed from the campfire, they all exchanged knowing glances. They were done with his orders tonight.

They'd arrived to the battle when John was effortlessly tossed against his truck's door, the window shattering and knocking him unconscious. Odessa raised her crossbow, pressing the trigger down and the arrow protruded the other female's chest. Both Sam and Dean quickly shot after her, and Odessa sprinted down the grassy hill. Uncoiling her serpent, she yanked one of the vampire's ankle, having them collide roughly against the asphalt. She pressed the trigger, and didn't waste another second to find another one. 

Her eyes momentarily widened as she witnessed Sam being pulled from the floor. Dean dashed for the discarded machete. She raised her whip to tug the leader's arm away, but was stopped. "Don't! I'll break his neck. Put the blade down," He glimpsed at Essie's glimmering whip. "Drop the whip." Unfazed, Odessa and Dean hadn't followed his directions and he tightened his hold on him, resulting with grunts from Sam and ragged breaths. Flinching at the horrid sound, she hastily released her whip. Dean stole a glance at her, following after her.

"You people." He sneered, "Why can't you just leave us alone! We have as much right to live as you do." 

John stood behind him, the Colt raised and loaded. "I don't think so." And pressed the trigger. The vampire released Sam, and grunted. She watched intently as he twitched, blue ichor oozing from the open wound. He fell to the floor, his life essence slowly being drained away, and with one final twitch, he collapsed and died. 

Odessa, with wide eyes, backed away from his lifeless body. "What the..."

<<>>

I AM FINALLY BACK! OH, GOD, THIS WAS SUCH A TERRIBLE CHAPTER BUT I DESPERATELY NEEDED TO UPDATE! I MISS WRITING SO MUCH! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT :)