Prepare for the longest chapter I've written :) 7.5K words, that's the most!

With nimble fingers, Odessa swiftly examined the loose, scattered sheets of paper and newspaper articles. A majority of them contained some scrawled structure with black marker or pen. The erratic writing was John's—these, however, seemed more hurried than the notes in his journal. John gestured around the room. "So, this is it. This everything I know," He glanced down at the Colt. "Our whole lives we've been searching for this demon, right? Not a trace, just nothing, until about a year ago. For the first time, I picked up a trail." 

Dean standing beside him. "That's when you took off."

John nodded, "Yeah, that's right. The demon must have come out of hiding or hibernation." Odessa placed the newspaper article back on the pile and glanced between the three of them. 

"Okay, what's this trail you found?" She asked, leaning against the wooden beam that supported the ceiling.

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burn down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us," Sam, unnerved, asked if the demon was going after families with infants. "Yeah, the night of the kid's six-month birthday." 

Sam raised his eyebrows. "I was six-months old that night?" He looked at her with a distressed gleam in his eyes. She pursed her lips, crossing her arms as she exchanged a sympathetic manner with him. 

John nodded once again. "Exactly six-months." 

Sam was leaning against the porcelain sink, hands supporting him on the rim. "So, basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason, same way it came for me," He paused, watching as John peered down at his notes. "So mom's death, Jessica—it's all because of me."

Odessa's shoulders slumped noticeably, consolation lacing each word she spoke. "Sam, of course it's not your fault." 

Sam moved toward her with a jerk. "Really, Essie, because I'd say we're pretty damn sure!" Dean hurriedly barricaded Odessa, defensively guarding her from his raging brother. Of course Odessa knew Sam would never harm her, intentionally, and stood back from the dominating brothers.

Dean appeared irked with Sam's claims of being the cause if their mother's death and Jessica's. He stole a glance at Odessa before returning his fiery gaze to Sam. "For the last time, what happened to them is not your fault." 

Unfazed by words, Sam continued shouting. "Yeah, you're right it's not my fault, but it's my problem!"

Dean shook his defiantly. "No, it's not your problem. It's our problem." 

John softly slammed his hand on the table. "Okay, that's enough." Sam and Dean loosened the tension in their bodies, seemingly backing down. Odessa sighed heavily, running her fingers through her hair.

"So, why is it doing it? What does it want?" 

"I wish I had more answers," John said, "I do. I've always been on step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save..."

Noticing the evident discomfort in John's demeanor and expression, Dean spoke. "All right, so, how do we find it before it hits again?" 

John looked at him. "There are signs. Look, it took me a while to see the pattern, but in the days before these fires, signs crop up in an area—cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked, and..." John droned off, memories resurfacing. 

Realization dawned upon Odessa's face. "These all happened in Lawrence." She muttered, all most afraid of the words escaping her lips. 

Nodding stiffly, John confirmed her theory. "A week before their mother died," John glimpsed in Sam's direction. "And in Palo Alto...before Jessica. And these signs—they're starting again."

"Where?" Sam said through gritted teeth.

"Salvation, Iowa."

<<>>

Odessa thoughts were suffused with overwhelming thoughts of the inevitable decision her self-conscious enforced her to think after John wistfully proclaimed Pastor Jim's death. Evidently she hadn't known of Pastor Jim's existence until Sam briefly explained, and her mind engulfed with the conclusion she decided was quickly impending. She understood agreeing to travel with Sam and Dean was imminently asking for absolute loss and precarious adventures; however, she also grasped the concept that some circumstances were beyond her control, such as death. 

The mere image of Sam inexplicably dying when she could've done something—or worse, because of her—was unsettling and she wouldn't know how to cope the loss of another brother. When Costello was viciously murdered, she was convinced there was no emotional healing. There was no road to recovery. Instead, there was nearly a year of nightmares, sleepless nights, and times where she cried to the point where felt as if she couldn't no longer. She couldn't do that again.

She couldn't even envision the wave of emotions she'd experience if Dean died, the man she somehow managed to contain romantic feelings for. She wasn't sure she'd forgive herself for allowing an indescribable tether form between them, well, an unrequited bond. 

Lengthy fingers snapping inches from her face piqued her attention from her disheartening thoughts. Odessa flinched, realizing Sam was gathering the papers on the desk into an orderly pile. Unhooking her ankles from the legs of the chair, she straightened her back. Sam was chuckling, eyeing her with bewilderment. "I've never seen you think so hard," He said, standing on his feet, offering his hand, to which she accepted and pulled herself up. "Try not to pop a blood vessel." She didn't have the energy to pretend she was amused. Disregarding his joke, she whirled around, continuing on the pathway that lead to the exit doors of the medical center.

Sam made a sound between a scoff and cough, quickly rushing after her. The automatic doors opened and wintry gust of wind slammed into her, and she stopped. Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she watched as the cars drove by, people aimlessly ambling on the sidewalk with coffee cups in hand. Sam halted beside, peering down at her questionably. She licked her lips, scanning the laces of her boots. "Sam, I need to leave," She began, and paused, inhaling through her nose. "I don't know why I'm here, I've no purpose here with you and Dean. I need to stop pretending there's gonna be a team after we kill this demon," He was intently listening, no distinct emotion on his face. He seemed to be processing her words. "You said it yourself. You're going back to college, Dean's going back to being John's soldier. Where does that leave me?" 

His face whitened considerably, as if he was only just realized the extent of her predicament. "I had a purpose, Sam," She said after a moment's pause. "And that purpose was destroyed when my whole family died. And then, maybe it was fate, but I met you and Dean, and I felt like I could be somebody again. The emotion on your dad's face when learned about Pastor Jim's death made think realistically. What happens if you or Dean die because of me? How am I going to deal with that?" By this point, tears are dwelling in her eyes. 

Sam looked as if he didn't know what to say, and slumped his shoulders. "Odessa," He said softly, "Did you finally realize—" He tightly shut his eyes, wincing aloud. Odessa tore her gaze from the passing vehicles, and grasped his elbow worriedly. He pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. He released his journal, thudding softly against the concrete. He formed a steeple with his hands, placing both on his temples.

Odessa's eyes widened, gripping his forearm as she attempted to capture his attention. "Sam. Sam, are you getting a vision?" He opened his eyes, breathing heavily as he quickly crouched and grabbed the journal from the ground. He didn't answer her question, stuffing the journal in his backpack. Unzipping a pocket from his backpack, he continued to mumble 'train', as if he was going to forget it any second. He unfolded the map and crumpled it in his hand, dashing in the opposite direction. She furrowed her eyebrows, swiftly following after him. 

Minutes later, Sam slowed his pace, wincing again before regaining his composure. Opening his eyes, he stared at her as if he'd forgotten she was there. Odessa was standing in front of him, eyes wide and bewildered. He readjusted his jacket and continued walking, only to stop as his gaze landed on an unfamiliar home, then on a beautiful woman across the street with a baby. She remained put as Sam jogged across the street, dodging incoming cars. She focused on his conversation, comprehending his sudden alteration in behavior when the woman, whose name was Monica, announced her baby was six-months old.

When he returned, Monica was already inside her house with her husband. "Sam, are you okay?" She asked. He looked around frantically one last time, breathing laboriously through his nose. 

He nodded rigidly, avoiding her gaze. "We need to get to the motel."

<<>>

Odessa was perched beside Sam, legs crossed on her seat as she restlessly fiddled with her ruby pendent. Clandestinely, she was hoping Sam wouldn't mutter anything of her soon-to-be departure. She hadn't want to give the impression she was leaving now, only after the demon was killed, and her assistance was required any longer. Elbows propped on his thighs, John laced his fingers together, staring at Sam with incredulity. "A vision?" He asked, his skepticism was evident.

Sam, who seemed to still be affected by his vision, was pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yes. I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling." He sounded vexed and uneasy, as if he was done repeating it.

"And you think it's gonna happen to this woman you met because?" 

Odessa shifted in her seat, turning to face John and Dean. "Because these visions happen the exact way he sees them," She said, "This isn't the first time it's happened." And you would've known that if you just picked up the damn phone, she thought inwardly. 

Dean stood from the bed, peering down at his empty coffee mug. "It started out as nightmares, and then he started having them while he was awake." He plodded to the opposite side of the room, pouring his coffee in. 

Sam nodded, mumbling a faint 'yeah'. "It's like—I don't know. It's like the closer I get to anything involving the demon, the strong the visions get." 

"All right, when were you gonna tell me about this?" John blurted bitterly. 

Odessa scoffed, glaring daggers into his temples. "We were kind of focusing on surviving ever since you came back," She sneered, "So excuse us if our priorities were a bit scattered." 

John scowled at the her, then the floor. "Something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone, and you call me." 

Dean glanced at her, exchanging a disbelieved look, then he shoved his carafe back onto the warming plate."Call you? Are you kidding me," John pursed his lips, seeming to notice his mistake. "Dad, I called you from Lawrence, all right? Sam called you when I was dying. Getting you on the phone—I got a better chance of winning the lottery." 

John nodded. "You're right," Dean straightened himself up, evidently surprised he agreed. "Although I'm not real crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry." 

Sam intervened. "Look, guys, visions or no visions, the fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family's gonna go through the same hell we went through."

"No, they're not. No one is...ever again."

Sam's phone rings, shattering the serene ambiance, and he quickly presses the 'answer' button. The voice on the other end doesn't necessarily sound familiar until Odessa truly focuses on the taunting tone, and her eyes widened as she realized it'd been the demon. "Meg," Sam declares, and Odessa composed her posture, leaning closer on the table. "Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window," There's moment's pause. "Just your feelings? That was a seven-story drop. My dad? I don't know where my dad is." Sam apprehensively hands John the phone, and Odessa averts her attention to Meg's voice.

Minutes pass, and Odessa couldn't refrain the uneasiness from being candidly expressed. She'd gasped when John's friend Caleb's throat was slashed; the sound of him choking on his blood was enough to have her scoot her chair back, and abruptly stand on her feet. Meg was threatening to murder everyone John's ever cared about, anyone's who's ever assisted him, or given him shelter. "I said okay," He affirmed, "I'll bring you the Colt." Another minute goes by, and she can see John is planning on how to get to the warehouse on time.

"So, you think Meg is a demon?" Sam inquires, leaning against one of the wooden pillars that support the ceiling.

"Either that or she's possessed by one. It doesn't really matter." John replies.

Odessa should've noticed, or realized Meg was too crafty for her to truly be dead. "What do we do?" Dean asks, yanking Odessa from her thoughts.

John halts. "I'm going to Lincoln," Dean protests, stepping forward. "It doesn't seem like I have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die. Our friends die." 

Odessa, folding her arms across her chest, shifted her feet uncomfortably as she peered down at her shoes. This was exactly she was afraid of happening to Sam and Dean. She didn't want to face the internal battle of choosing what was right and what she felt was more important. Sam chanced a glance her way, regarding her distressed demeanor. "Dad, the demon is coming tonight for Monica and her family. That gun is all we got. You can't just hand it over."

John jutted his chin, "Who said anything about handing it over? Look, besides us and a couple vampires, no one's really seen the gun. No one knows what it really looks like." 

"So, what, you're just gonna pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?"

"Antique store." John corrects, as if it made a difference to the situation.

"You're gonna hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?" 

John half-shrugs. "Look, as long as it's close, she should've be able to tell the difference." 

Odessa unfolds her arms, scoffing. "For how long? What's your plan if she does figure it out?"

After concluding John was going to leave to Lincoln, and have Sam, Dean, and Odessa go save Monica and her family, Sam questioned him. John seemed heartbroken, and didn't know what to do. "No, Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home," He pivoted from view. "I want Mary alive. I just want this to be over." 

Odessa spun on her heel, tearing her gaze from the teary-eyed father and sighed softly. "So do I." She mumbled to herself, hardly coherent.

<<>>

As soon as Dean parked the Impala across the street of Monica's home, Odessa swiftly pushed the door open, and settled herself on the trunk. The metal was laminated with a thin layer of dew, but she didn't seem to care. She heard Dean question Sam of her peculiar behavior, and she shook her head, directing her concentration elsewhere. The tranquility of the desolate street was remarkably wondrous, and she wasn't sure if it'd been because everything else was mind-boggling deafening. 

She hadn't meant to speak of her departure with Sam, not that very second, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she couldn't restrain herself. She didn't want to leave their side, she'd grown profoundly close with both of them, but the intimacy was only putting them in danger. And her feelings for Dean were going cloud her judgement, and possibly even reveal how she felt to him. Oh, god, she couldn't have Dean discover that. She'd be humiliated, and she couldn't be in a relationship, not when they'd be in danger 24/7. 

A sudden gust of wind snapped her from thoughts, and the static of the Impala's radio crackled through the ambiance. She stood, craning her neck to glimpsed at the boys, who were already looking at her questionably. From her peripheral vision, Monica's home's lights were flickering repeatedly. She nodded, and they exited the Impala and hastily sprinted to the house where Dean swiftly picked the lock. Odessa uncoiled her whip, and it carelessly dragged on the carpeted floor. Glass shattering rang through the air, and she saw Dean quickly duck from the man's incoming attack. "Get out of my house!" Monica's husband repeated, silenced when Dean grabbed his wooden bat and pushed him against the wall. 

Dean was pressing the wooden beam across his chest. "Be quiet and listen to me. We're trying to help you, okay?" 

Monica's voice was faint as she spoke, asking if everything was okay downstairs. "Monica, get the baby!" Her husband shouted, jerking in Dean's grasp. 

Odessa's eyes widened, shaking her head. "Don't go in the nursery!" She shouted vehemently, scampering up the stairs with Sam hot on her tail. Sam pushed her aside, aiming the Colt high and pressed the trigger, only to be merely seconds too late and the demon disappeared. Monica screamed as she collided with floor, and Sam crouched down, assisting her to her feet and guided her out the room. Odessa quickly wrapped the baby securely in a fuzzy blanket and brought her away from the crib, which burst into flames. 

She nearly lost her footing as the house shook as the flames erupted into an explosion, but she made it outside the home. "Get away from my family!" Monica's husband shouted as she and Sam dashed outside.

Monica halted. "No, Charlie, don't! They saved us," She said, turning to face Odessa, who extended her arms out to her and handed Rosie to her mother. "Thank you." 

Sam turned to face the flamed-engulfed home, and nearly ran inside. "It's still inside! Let me go inside, Dean!" 

"It's burning to the ground—it's suicide!" Dean protested, restraining Sam from entering the home.

"I don't care!" 

"Well, I do!" And seconds later, the demon diminished into the flames.

<<>>

Odessa glanced down at her attire, and grimaced as she realized she'd been wearing these clothes for nearly two days. She couldn't find any form of energy to care though. She stood on the porch of the Winchester's close friend's house where she intently examined her surroundings with distaste, wondering how someone could be so untidy. The door swung open and revealed an older-looking man with worn-out clothes, several stains scattered across his blouse and baseball cap. Sam and Dean greeted him with genuine grins, and the man quickly placed circular, silver bottles onto Dean's palm as Sam sat behind a desk and flipped through some book's pages. "Here you go." 

Dean examined the engraved canteen. "What is this—holy water?" Odessa scanned the home's interior with perplexity, skimming through the spines of hundreds and hundreds of stacked books. There are dozens of scattered pages sprawled on the walls, desk, and floor. 

The man has one of the silver canteens in his hand, twisting the cap off. "That one is. This is whiskey." He chugs a few gulps down, and grimaces, offering Dean the alcohol. Dean chuckles, accepting the offer, and swallows a large gulp, grimacing as well. Dean stands beside her, extending his arm and offers her the metal canteen. She eyes the engraving, not recognizing it, and obtains the canteen, bringing the rim to her crimson-stained lips.

The man is staring at her, well, not necessarily at her, more the rune on her forearm. His eyebrows join together as he opens his mouth to speak, only to be intervened by Dean. "Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything," He says, looking down at his hands. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure if we should come."

Bobby jerked his head back. "Nonsense. Your daddy needs help." 

The corners of Dean's lips quirked. "The last time we saw you, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. You cocked your shotgun and everything." Odessa couldn't refrain from chuckling.

Bobby, with his hands resting on his waist, sighed heavily. "Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people." 

Odessa grinned brightly, the kind of grin that made Dean's heart skip a beat every time he saw it, and laughed. "Tell me about it." She commented before drinking another gulp of whiskey.

"None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back." 

From behind the desk, Sam chuckled. "Bobby, this book. I've never seen anything like it." As Bobby ambled to sit on the desk to speak to Sam of the book titled 'Key of Solomon', Odessa nudged Dean from his thoughts, eyes flickering all throughout this face. She sent him a reassuring smile, the kind that meant everything was going to be okay. And somehow, a mere smile from her was all it took for hope to briefly restore within him. Bobby leaned forward, stealing a swift glance at the duo. "Those two together," Bobby asks, jutting his thumb in their direction. "Never seen Dean so gushy with a girl before."

Sam chuckled, looking down at his hands. "I don't know anymore, both always say they're just friends." 

Bobby snorted, shaking his head. "'Just friends' don't look at each other like that," He whispered.

 "The man knows his stuff." Dean said, reluctantly tearing his gaze from her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him as he walked to the desk. Sam and Bobby regained their composure and continued speaking as if they hadn't said anything before.

"I'll tell you something else, too," Bobby said, "This is some serious crap you kids stepped in," Sam swallowed the lump in his throat, asking what he'd meant by that. "Normal year, I hear, say, three demonic possessions, maybe four, tops. This year, I heard twenty-seven so far. You get what I'm saying? More and more demons are walking among us—a lot more." 

Odessa furrowed her brows. "Do you know why?" 

Bobby shook his head. "No, but I know it's something big. The storms coming, and you kids, your daddy—you are smack in the middle of it." Bobby's dog, Rumsfeld, begins barking before a whine rings through air, and metal clanking echoes. "Rumsfeld. Something's wrong." Just as he spoke those words, the door was kicked open, shards of wood flying in all directions. 

Dean unscrews the cap of the canteen containing holy water, dashing forward. "No more crap, okay?" Meg demands, and dismisses Dean's attempts with a wave of her hand. He goes flying back and lands on a pile of books. Odessa's eyes widened as she dashed to Dean's side, clutching his hand while checking his pulse. "I want the Colt, Sam—the real Colt—right now." 

Sam was protectively guarding Bobby as they backed away. "We don't have it on us. We buried it." 

She dauntingly inched closer to them. "Didn't I say 'no more crap'? I swear—after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I've got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you chuckleheads. Lackluster, men. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?" 

Dean brought his index fingers to mouth, motioning for Odessa remain silent. She nodded, and stood back, assisting Dean to his feet. "Actually, we were counting on it," He glanced up at the ceiling, quickly examining the artwork Bobby worked on. "Gotcha."

<<>>

Odessa intently watched as Dean stood from his seat and leisurely ambled towards Meg, who was now tied and secured on a wooden chair. "Where's our father, Meg?" She glared tauntingly, claiming he didn't ask nicely. Dean appeared unfazed. "Where's our father, bitch?" 

Meg feigned an offended expression, slacking her jaw. "Jeez. You kiss your mother with that mouth," She questioned, gasping with a sickening smile. "Oh, I forgot. You don't." 

Dean lurched forward, settling his hands on the arm rests of the chair while merely inches from her face. "You think this is a freaking game?! Where is he?! What did you do to him?!" 

Undaunted, Meg cocked her head. "He died screaming. I killed him myself," Odessa flinched as Dean back-handed her, a stomach-turning smack echoing through the room. Meg gasped, shrieking in pain, and she quickly re-attained her composure. "That's kind of a turn-on—you hitting a girl." 

Dean's remained expressionless. "You're no girl." Dean sneered, watching as Meg simply alarmingly smiled.

Odessa pushed herself off the desktop, interlacing her fingers with his, a saddened smile quirking as she witnessed his tense shoulders relax. "Dean," She said, tugging him to the kitchen. "Are you okay?" He was breathing thickly through his nose, eyes fuming with fury. 

"She's lying. He's not dead." 

"Dean, you've got to be careful with her. Don't hurt her." Bobby stated, peering over his broad shoulders. Dean's eyebrows furrowed as he asked why. "Because she really is a girl. That's why." 

Sam shifted on his feet. "What are you talking about?" 

Realization dawned upon Odessa's features. "She's possessed," She said, eyes flickering between both Sam and Dean. "Meg is just some girl possessed by a demon." 

Dean peered behind him. "Are you trying to tell me there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there," Bobby and Odessa nodded. "That's actually good news."

Minutes later, Odessa was standing besides Meg, John's journal in hand as the demon glared tauntingly. "Are you gonna read me a story?" She mocked.

Dean pursed his lips, nodding. "Something like that," He said, "Hit it, Essie." Odessa exhaled sharply, peering down at the Latin-scrawled passages, and read aloud.

"An exorcism? Are you serious?" Dean was sneering repeatedly as Odessa continued to read, halting when Meg groaned, evidently in pain. Her head snapped in the Guardian's direction. "I'm gonna kill you, just like I helped kill your mommy and daddy," Meg derided, smirking egotistically as she noticed Odessa's wide eyes and appalled expression. "I'm gonna slash your throat, just like I slashed Drexel's." 

Dean glimpsed towards the raven-haired beauty, and gathered Meg's attention from continuing any further. "No, you're gonna burn in hell unless you tell us where our dad is," Meg remained silent, grinning manically. "Well, at least you'll get a nice tan." Peering through his lashes, Dean signaled for Odessa to continue reading the exorcism. She shook her head, attempting to focus on what was important. 

Meg trembled viciously, panting through her clenched teeth. "He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time. That's when I slit his throat." She gritted her teeth, breathing heavily. It seemed even breathing was a difficult task when being exorcised.

Dean leaned in, gripping the arm rests of the chair. "For your sake, I hope you're lying. 'Cause if it's true, I swear to god, I will march into hell myself, and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God," A sudden breeze filled the room, having the flames of the fire whirl in all directions, and pages of opened books flip repeatedly. "Where is he?" He asked as soon as Odessa stopped reading.

"You just won't take 'dead' for an answer, will you?" 

"Where is he?!" 

"Dead!"

Dean crouched to her side. "No, he's not! He's not dead! He can't be," Odessa watched, eyes broad and swirling with fear and apprehension. She wasn't sure if she should say something, or continue. "What are you looking at? Keep reading." She flinched, and shakily continued. Odessa nearly shrieked as Meg began shouting, the chair squeaking as she was dragged by an invisible force. 

"He will be," Meg shouted, and Dean demanded Odessa she'd stop. "He's not dead, but he will be after what we do to him."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" 

"You don't." Meg mumbled.

"Essie!" 

Meg didn't waste a second to shout. "A building! Okay? A building in Jefferson City." 

"Missouri? Where, where? An address." Dean's eyes frantically searched Meg's, demanding with a tone Odessa'd never heard from him.

Meg pleaded. "I don't know." She was breathing heavily, seeming to struggle to keep her eyes remained open.

"And the demon—the one we're looking for—where is it?" Sam questioned.

"I don't know. I swear. That's everything. That's all I know." 

Dean, commanding Odessa to finish the exorcism, she didn't bother to listen to Meg's pleas and began reading the passage once again. However, as Sam and Dean backed away from the demon and Guardian, Meg took the chance to distract her from continuing. "You know, I remember everything your mom begged for," Odessa dropped her gaze from the scribbled passage, freezing as the words escaped Meg's lips. "She was screaming so loud, going on and on about seeing her precious kids one last damn time. And you know what I did, I slit her throat while making sure every second hurt." 

Odessa choked back a sob, burning tears dwelling in her eyes as she stepped away, nearly loosing her footing and tumbled to the creaking floorboards. She whirled around, involuntarily colliding with Sam. She clutched her chest, reaching for her necklace. Placing the journal in Sam's hands, she shook her head. "I—I can't," She mumbled, avoiding their intense gazes. "I need some fresh air, I—I'm sorry." She saw Dean's apprehension, appearing as if he'd wanted to protest her sudden departure, but remained speechless and allowed her stagger to the door.

<<>>

Odessa couldn't help but feel nothing but a distinct apathy and numbness as she soundlessly marched alongside Sam and Dean. There wasn't much to speak of, the only indication of discovering her family's murderers was simmering below her, and she hadn't wanted to express her lack of emotion and incentive. Carelessly ambling through a series of trees, Sam and Dean paused, and directed their attention to the sign across the street. There, advertised in bold letters, was the word 'Sunrise' on the sign and atop the entrance. "Son of a bitch, that's pretty smart," Dean said, shattering the serene silence between the three of them. "If these demons can possess people, they can possess almost anybody inside." 

Sam, intently staring at the gleeful children and yapping parents, nodded. "Yeah, and make anybody attack us." He half-shrugged, and Dean pivoted to face the building once more. Odessa glanced heavenwards, sighing discernibly as the sunlight's rays beamed across her face. The warmth was strangely refreshing and comforting, almost a remembrance of the artistry of the world. 

Dean appeared bothered of the lack of opportunities to kill some demons. "And we can't kill them. A building full of human shields."  

Sam shook his head softly. "They probably know exactly what we look like, too. And they could look like anybody," Sam stated, "All right, so, how the hell are we gonna get in?" 

Dean glimpsed at the building, and his eyes momentarily widened as he came up with an idea. "We'll pull the fire alarm. Get out all the civilians." 

Odessa stuffed her hands inside her pockets, scoffing as the breeze flew between the crevices of her hair. Looking at Dean ignited an unmanageable flame from within, and the breeze nicking through her skin wasn't the reason her skin erupted goosebumps. "The city's going to respond in seven minutes," She responded, tearing her gaze from Dean's verdant eyes. "What's your plan now?" 

After successfully feigning a worried pet owner, she watched as Sam and Dean yanked two firemen's uniforms. Odessa effortlessly evaded the disembarking crowds and incoming firemen as she squeezed herself between them both, somehow managing to favorably blend with the mass of panicked people. Dean extended his arm out, waving the E.M.F. all throughout the corridor, claiming he wanted to be a fireman when he grew up. His voice sounded hollow inside the mask, and she briefly pictured a hunter-free life with Dean as he heroically fought fires instead of demons and monsters. 

The meter began beeping erratically as Dean neared a certain doorway. Odessa knocked on the doorway and backed away from view. Seconds later, the locks clicked open and Dean rammed his shoulder into the wooden door. Odessa heard a woman shriek and a thud, glass shattering and she dashed inside. She nearly tackled the possessed woman, attempting to restrain her down on the wooden tabletop. The woman was shrieking vehemently, and her eardrums felt like they were bleeding. "Hurry up!" Odessa shouted, watching as Dean opened the closet door for her. She gripped the woman firmly and tossed her inside, swiftly slamming the door closed.

As the door pounded, Sam was pouring salt around the doorway. Once the banging came to a halt, Sam and Dean undressed from their uniforms. Odessa walked to one of the opened doorways, pushing it open and Dean ran past her. Her eyes widened, taking in the sight of an unconscious John Winchester, or possibly dead. He was restrained and bleeding from his mouth, his skin a deathly pale shade. Dean pressed his ear against his mouth, announcing he was alive. He was shaking him, shouting for him to wake up. 

He fished for his switchblade, unfolding the blade. Sam demanded he wait. "Wait, wait. He could be possessed for all we know."

Dean appeared offended by the mere suggestion. "What are you, nuts?" 

Odessa sighed. "Dean, we got to be sure," She said, accepting Sam's offer of his holy water. "Better safe than sorry." She twisted the cap open and poured the blessed water on his chest. 

John gradually shifted, wakening from his slumber. "Odessa," He mumbled, evidently in pain. "Why are you splashing water on me?" Sam chuckled humorlessly, relieved he wasn't possessed. Dean sent them bland looks, wordlessly telling them 'I-told-you-so'. 

Dean placed his hand on John's forehead. "Dad, are you okay?" 

John's voice was raspy as he spoke, giving them impression he hadn't consumed any water for quite a while. "They've been drugging me," He swallowed thickly, breathing heavily. "Where's the Colt?" 

"Don't worry, dad, it's safe." Sam reassured. As Dean sliced the ropes off John's arms, Odessa glanced at the entryway, furrowing her brows. From the distance, there was distinct heavy footsteps, and there was more than two people. Wasn't everyone supposed to evacuate the building? The footsteps were right outside the corridor. Sam and Dean were carrying on their shoulders, assisting him with each step when Odessa swiftly closed the door, switching the locks and pressed her back against it. The front door was kicked open, and she demanded they open the window. 

Inches from her head an ax protruded through the door, fragments of wood flying in all directions. Sam was already pouring salt around her feet and quickly grabbed her hand, tugging her away from the gaping door. John and Dean were already on the ground as she descended the emergency ladder. Wrapping John's arm around her shoulders, Sam was already departing to find the Impala, until he was tackled and attacked by a demon. "Sam!" The demon froze, turning to face the Guardian and simply dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

She shrieked as she was efficiently tossed away—like a ragdoll as she was slammed into a truck's windshield. The glass dented, nearly shattering under her weight, and a few minuscule remnants of glass pricked her skin. She groaned, mustering all her energy to push herself off the hood of the car, and uncoil her bracelet. Loosing her footing as she stood, she supported herself as she watched Sam be horrifically beaten. She hastily wrapped her whip around the demon's arm, and tugged. However, a gunshot rang through the air, and the demon twitched for a few seconds, and fell to the asphalt. 

Odessa, with wide eyes, limped to Sam and offered him her hand, which he accepted. As he stood, there was a burning sensation on her forearm, and she didn't need to look down to know it was her Mark. 

<<>>

Odessa clutched her feverish arm, perched on an empty tabletop and gazed out the window, watching as the wind moved through the branches with ease. Sam and Dean were talking with John, who'd awaken seconds before, but she didn't bother listening in on the conversation. She didn't care, or at least she didn't want to. She figured lying to herself and claiming she didn't care for them leaving would be easier. But she couldn't deny her love for both of the brothers. They would always hold a certain fondness in her heart.

The lights flickered and a sudden breeze howled in the midst of the midnight sky. She heard Sam coming her way and he appeared in the doorway with a worried expression. "The demon's here." That's all he needed to say to have her hop off the table and dash in the abandoned kitchen, only to be greeted with Dean aiming the Colt at John's head. "Dean? What the hell is going on?" 

"Your brother's lost his mind." 

"He's not dad," Dean replied, not faltering his gaze. "I think he's possessed. I think he's been possessed since we rescued him."

"Don't listen to him, Sam." 

Odessa stepped forward, raising her hands in surrender. "Dean, are you sure? How do you know?" 

Dean sent her a pleading glance. "He's different." His tone was seemingly begging her to believe him, to trust him on this. 

"We don't have time for this. Sam, if you want to kill this demon, you've got to trust me," Sam peered down beside him, silently asking Odessa what she thought. She softly shook her head, hardly perceivable. "Sam?" 

Sam gently grabbed her arm, pulling her to Dean's side. "No. No." He repeated. 

"Fine. You three are so sure. Go ahead. Kill me," John lowered his head, welcoming the incoming bullet; however, it never came. Dean didn't pull the trigger. "I thought so." He said smugly. Raising his head, his eyes were no longer brown, but golden swirled with deep green. Those colors only belonged to one demon; the yellow-eyed demon. Odessa was pulled to the wall across where Sam was thrown by an invisible force. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been."

Through clenched teeth, Sam sneered. "It's you, isn't it? We've been looking for you for a long time." 

"Well, you found me." The demon chuckled.

"But the holy water."

"You think something like that works on something like me," Sam groaned, taunting him as he claimed he was going to kill him. "Oh, that would be a neat trick. In fact, here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy," Odessa watched Sam had genuinely attempted to move the gun with his mind. "Well, this is fun. I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this is worth the wait. Your dad—he's in here with me, trapped inside own meat suit. He says 'hi' by the way, he's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

Dean glared viciously into John's glowing amber eyes. "Let him go, or I swear to God—"

"What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice. You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

Odessa scrunched her eyebrows together. "Meg?" She asked.

"The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

The demon cocked his head. "What? You're the only one that can have a family? You destroyed by children. How would you feel if I killed your family," She watched both Sam and Dean's face altered considerably. "Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right." 

Sam grunted through gritted teeth. "I want to know why.  Why did you do it?" 

The demon turned to face him. "You mean why did I kill mommy and pretty, little Jess? You know, I never told you this, but Sam was gonna ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything," He was in front of Sam now, inches from his face, "You want to know why? Because they got in the way."

Odessa tried moving her arm, or leg, or any of her limbs but still remained restrained. "In the way of what, you prick?" She grunted, not really caring for his theatrics.

The demon's gaze remained on Sam. "My plans for you, Sammy—you and all the children like you." 

"Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? 'Cause I really can't stand the monologuing." 

The demon's head snapped in Dean's direction. "Funny, but that's all apart of your M.O., isn't it? Mask all that nasty pain, mask the truth, your precious feelings from them both," He sneered, "You know, you fight, and fight for this family, but the truth is they don't need you. Not like you need them," He stole a glimpse towards the struggling Guardian. "Or her. Sam—he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you."

Dean grinned egotistically, faintly chuckling. "I bet your real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh, wait. I forgot I wasted 'em." The demon looked down for nearly half a second, and returned his gaze on him, smirking smugly as Dean shouted in agony. "Dad, don't you let it kill me!" 

Tears dwelling in her eyes, Odessa struggled to squirm free until her muscles seared with fire. She couldn't move, and Dean was dying right in front of her eyes. "Dean!" She shouted as he quietly pleaded for John stop him, until his eyes fluttered close and went limp, blood dripping down his mouth and shirt.

Suddenly, she was released from the demon's grasp. She gasped, falling to her knees. She hastily scurried in Dean's direction. She couldn't think, and her ears were ringing as she crawled to him, wanting to feel his touch. She cupped his cheeks, gently shaking his head. "Dean," She mumbled, jolting him once more. Blood stained her fingertips, but she couldn't care less. "Dean, please, wake up. Please don't leave me, please don't die." Sam shot the Colt, and the deafening gunshot made her flinch as Dean collided with the floor and away from her grasp, and he gasped. His eyes fluttered open. "Oh, god, Dean, you lost a lot of blood. Just focus on my voice, okay?" 

"Where's Dad?" He asked Sam. 

"He's right there. He's right there."

"Go check on him." Odessa's eyes widened, shaking her head. "Go check on him"

She cradled Dean in her arms, craning her neck to face Sam. "Go ahead, I'll take care of him," She didn't wait for his response and faced Dean's faltering figure. "Hey, hey, stay with me, okay? Just focus on something peaceful, keep your eyes open." Her wavering voice was distinct in the silent room, and she could hear the pain in her voice as it echoed through the walls.

His eyes glimmered with fresh tears, staring up at her with hers with such wondrous amount of emotion. "Essie, I have to tell you something, just in case I don't make it," He paused, his ragged breaths tickled her hand. "I-I l—" 

She sniffled, pulling him closer. "No, no, don't you dare talk like that," She demanded, "You're gonna make it, and you're gonna be stuck with me for a long time, and it's gonna be Sam, you, and me against the world. And you're going to tell me whatever it is later. Promise me you'll make it through this."

He nodded rigidly. "I-I promise." 

"Sammy! It's still alive. It's inside me. I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!" Sam cocked the gun. "Do it, now!" 

"Sam, don't you do it. Don't you do it."

"Sam, you gotta hurry. I can't hold on to it much longer. You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy, you kill me," Odessa let out a sob as Dean whispered from her lap. "You do this! Sammy!" A demonic growl then filled the room, and Odessa watched with wide eyes as the demon escaped through John's mouth in a obscure cloud, disappearing into the floorboards crevices.

<<>>

Odessa warily watched Dean from beside her, making sure he was still breathing. He'd absentmindedly intertwined their fingers, and she gave him a reassuring squeeze. "Look, just hold on, all right? The hospital is only ten minutes away." 

John shook his head disapprovingly. "I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this. Killing this demon comes first—before me, before everything." 

Sam glanced into the rearview mirror, watching as Odessa clung to Dean with all her might, and Dean was resting his on her shoulder. "No, sir, not before everything. Look, we've still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, all right. I mean, we already found the demon—" 

And before Odessa could mutter a single word, see Dean one more time, a thundering crash collided into her door, and an obscure darkness consumed her.

SEASON ONE IS FINALLY DONE! OH, MY GOD I AM SO READY FOR SEASON TWO! I HAVE SO MANY THINGS PLANNED FOR ODESSA'S CHARACTER! WHAT DID YOU THINK DEAN WAS GOING TO SAY? WILL ODESSA STAY ONCE AND FOR ALL? COMMENT WHAT YOU THINK! SEE YOU SOON AND HAVE AN AMAZING DAY/NIGHT!