Not my longest chapter, but I hope you don't mind :) THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO MY LOVELY AND AMAZING COMMENTERS FROM MY PREVIOUS CHAPTER, LOVE YOU ALL AND DON'T STOP BEING AMAZING

The bottom of Odessa's bare feet apprehensively contacted the frigid marble flooring, and tightly squeezed her eyes together as a sudden wave of vertigo crashed throughout her nerves. She gripped the edge of the bed, releasing a delicate groan as the whirling sensation gradually eased. There were flashes of resurfacing memories as she hesitantly launched herself forward, remembering the helicopter and the morning sky while she was quickly placed on gurney. She remembered the distant shouting of the several EMT's, clamoring voices and Sam's distinct outcry for Dean was the final memory reemerge. 

Her mocha-eyes widened momentarily as the memories of Dean's perishing moments, and her heart ached as she realized she didn't even know if he was alive. The disequilibrium hadn't bothered her any longer, and she nearly collided into several parading patients and nurses. Her eyes scanned the corridor frantically, hoping to see Dean absentmindedly ambling through the hordes of people, or lack thereof. The hospital lacked a freckled, green-eyed hunter and her heart twinged within her chest. Wandering eyes questioned her reticently as they indiscreetly scampered away. 

Truthfully, she was hoping she couldn't find Dean's room because she had a terrible sense of direction, not because he didn't have a room. Suddenly, a firm hand grasped her upper forearm, ceasing her from continuing her delirious scavenger hunt. The hand belonged to Sam, who looked fine considering the circumstances, and she sighed in relief. He released her, and wordlessly motioned she follow him. He guided her through what seemed to be a spiral labyrinth and halted before the entrance of the room. She was seconds from entering when Sam stopped her once again. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you," He said, "The doctor said the chances of him waking up are slim. They don't know how much longer," Odessa's expression faltered. "I'm gonna go to Bobby's and get the Colt from the trunk. My dad needs some stuff for protection against the demon. I'll be back." 

He kissed her temple, and reassuringly squeezed her shoulder, and wandered away from her view. Tentatively stepping into the room, she released the choked back sob and practically tumbled on her own feet scurrying to his side. She raised her hand to her mouth, warm tears brimming around her eyes. There was unexpected urge to puke, an urge to release every suppressed emotion she'd contained for months, but she couldn't. Knowing he wasn't able listen, she couldn't speak. There was a single-seated chair beside his bed and she settled herself on the uncomfortable cushion. 

She interlaced her fingers with his, just as they were when the collision happened, and relished the warmth radiating through his skin. His hands were calloused, evidence of the difficult labor called hunting, and she gingerly caressed his knuckles with her thumb. He, as expected, was unresponsive, and she stifled the whimper threatening to escape. "You promised," She whispered, voice wavering with each word. "You promised you wouldn't leave me." A tear cascaded down her cheek, and tightly closed her eyes, bawling as quietly as she could manage. 

A blurred sense of familiarity surged through her as she pressed her knees to her chest, breathing into her thighs as she waited for Dean wake up. Of course he was going to awaken, and there was no doubt that he was going to become healthy over time. "You know, I've done this twice for you now; sitting here wondering if you're gonna be okay while you're fighting for your life," She said, chuckling humorlessly. "So, can you please wake up so I can yell at you, or we can have another pie eating contest, or maybe you can tell me what you wanted to say before. I just need you wake up." She pleaded, eyes flickering from his resting eyes to the several tubes.

She must've remained sitting there for hours, she'd stopped checking the clock above the doorway after an hour. There wasn't any point keeping track of the time now, and she was no longer sniffling with tears streaming down her face. She'd been jotting down a list of names that she thought could help, and she searched through her phone she found in Dean's discarded clothes. Clearing her throat, she rubbed her eyes, and was greeted with a blurred picture of an unconscious Dean as she opened her eyes. There was a knock on the door, and there stood John Winchester, pursing his lips sorrowfully. 

She understood and nodded, gathering her multiple arrays of multi-colored papers and leaned over his bedside, pecking his forehead as she longingly stroked his cheek with her thumb. She turned around, disregarding John's questioning stare. 

<<>>

Roughly an hour later, Odessa was discharged and, (judging from Sam's clenched jaw and fiery scowl) he'd been the one to do so, she was tossed new attire from him, and he heatedly hurled her golden bracelet and necklace. By the time she finished changing from her hospital garments and sped to John's room, she was accosted by Sam's vociferous shouting. "That's exactly my point," He roared, neglecting to acknowledge her presence. "Dean is dying, and you have a plan! You know what, you care more about killing this demon than you do saving your son!" 

John's eyes widened with blazing fury. "Do not tell me how I feel. I am doing this for Dean." He replied sharply, jutting his index finger at him.

Sam scoffed, spreading his arms wide. "How? How is revenge gonna help him? You're not thinking about anybody but yourself. It's the same selfish obsession." 

Odessa kneaded her shoulder, uncertain of what she could do. There was nothing to do. She could only helplessly watch as Sam and John relentlessly screamed at each other. "That's funny. I thought this was your obsession, too. This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt! Now, if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened." She couldn't believe John was blaming this all on Sam when he simply didn't want to kill his father.

"It was possessing you, dad. I would've killed you, too." 

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now."

Sam's face softened, then hardened. "Go to hell," He retaliated, fists forming by his side.

"I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake!" 

Odessa opened her mouth to demand they remain silent, to have them calm down and breathe before saying things they didn't mean; however, the half-empty glass of water was tossed across the room by an invisible force, and the glass shattered. She did a double-take, making sure she wasn't imagining the whole scenario. There on the marble flooring was the water, sparkling and reflecting in the sunlight's rays. Her gaze flickered from the puddle to Sam's bewildered one, and it seemed they were thinking the same thing.

From the hallway, there were several nurses and doctors sprinting to the end of the corridor, exclaiming numbers and medical terms Odessa had heard once or twice in some doctor show Dean was watching. John jutted his chin the door's direction, ordering they go check what the commotion was about. Her eyes widened as she noticed they were darting in Dean's room, and the flatline beeping was from deriving from his room. She shoved the wandering nurses away from her path, and immediately froze when she saw doctors beginning CPR.

Her hand flew to her mouth, and gasped as his pulse still hadn't returned. Odessa stood back from the doorway, wrapping her arms around Sam's waist, concealing her eyes from the horrid view. He instantaneously embraced her, one hand on her back and the other on her head. She released a sob, tears spewing. "I never even got to tell him," She cried, her words muffled into his shirt. "I didn't get to tell him." He soothingly caressed her hair, muttering 'I know, I know' and that was the moment she was convinced Sam undoubtedly was aware of her feelings for Dean.

Somehow, by chance, Dean's heart began beating once again and Odessa was certain she'd never felt anything so relieving before. She released a breath she didn't know she was containing. Her lips curved, a ghostly smile forming as she realized there wasn't any way Dean was going to go down without a fight.

<<>>

Odessa sauntered through the empty corridors of the hospital alongside Sam, who was carrying a brown paper bag, with a grim expression as re-thought of the suggestion Sam mustered from the back of his mind. She could already foresee Dean's reaction; him staring with narrowed eyes, assembling some form of sarcastic answer. She nearly laughed of the concentrated image of him snorting. Oh, god, she missed him terribly.

Upon entering the room where Dean was resting, she mentally prepared herself for the possibility of not getting a response from him. Sam was beside Dean's bed, looking down at him with such intense pain. "Hey," he mumbled, "I think maybe you're around. And if you are, don't make fun of me for this, but there's one way we can talk." He reluctantly pulled the spirit board from the bag, revealing the mystical packaging.

Sam glanced down at her, and she witnessed the apprehension, angst, and anguish churning in his eyes firsthand, and she wanted to firmly embrace him and reassure him even if she didn't know the outcome of today. Walking to the middle of his room, she settled her bottom on the floor, legs crossed and overlapping one another. Sam opened the board game and placed it before him, and he sighed heavily. She didn't know if this would work—even though she desperately hoped it did—there was a brief wave of skepticism as she placed her fingertips on the planchette. "Dean, are you here?" 

Moments gradually passed, and she wearily sighed, knowing this wasn't going to work. Unexpectedly, there was a swift current of energy that surged through the planchette, and slid across the board on 'yes'. Odessa's eyes widened and her stomach formed butterflies as her heart pounded. "Oh, it's good to hear from you, man," Sam said, chuckling giddily. "It hasn't been the same without you, Dean." Odessa wanted to ask something, but she didn't know what to say. 

The planchette slid across the board and she, with Sam, read the word 'hunt' aloud. "What? Hunt? Hunting? Dean, are you hunting," And it drifted to 'yes'. "Is it in the hospital, what are you hunting? Do you know what it is?" 

As the planchette glided smoothly across the board, she furrowed her eyebrows when she read the words to herself. "A reaper," She muttered, almost as if she were clarifying if that had been the word. She licked her lips, almost afraid to say what she was thinking. "Dean, is it after you?" The planchette shifted to 'yes'. She closed her eyes tightly and exhaled sharply. "We can't do anything if it's here naturally, we can't stop it." 

Sam abruptly stood on his feet, exiting the room as he claimed John would know what to do, that they'd find a way. Odessa removed her fingers from the planchette and blew a couple strands of hair away from her face. Even in spirit form Dean still made her flustered and unable to properly think. Her skin was well-nigh scorching with the yearning for Dean's touch, to have his warmth radiating through their clothes. She propped her chin on her hand, blowing out of her cheeks. Her eyes roamed around the room, as if she'd magically see Dean somewhere in that vicinity. "I don't know if you're here, Dean," She declared, shattering the silence. "But I want you to know I'm not giving up on you. I'm going to keep searching because I care about you too much to leave this damn hospital without you."

She gave one last beaming smile to the empty room and stood from the floor, dusting off her clothes, and exited the room for a craving for something obscenely sweet. It was only then did she realize she hadn't eaten a proper meal in nearly a week. When she returned from the cafeteria with freshly brewed coffee and two types of sandwiches in hand, Sam was speaking to Dean's recovering body. The ventilator pumped as she stopped right beside the doorway, intently listening to Sam's words. "Couldn't find anything in the book. I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep trying, all right? Essie and I aren't giving up. As long as you keep fighting.

 I mean, come on, you can't leave me here alone with dad and Odessa. We'll all kill each other. You know that. Dean, you got to hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again," Sam paused, "Can you hear me?" When there was no detectable response, she entered the room and placed her coffee on the nightstand beside Dean's bed. She smiled grimly, extending her arm and offered him one of the sandwiches, absolutely certain he hadn't eaten anything either. He nodded, taking the meal from her hand and began to unwrapped the plastic lamination.

She was going to devour the sandwich when she was intervened by Dean's abrupt gasping as he lurched forward, eyes considerably wide. She sharply drew in a breath, involuntarily releasing her grasp on her food as she watched as Dean choked on the tube that provided him oxygen. "Dean," They both muttered, and it was Odessa shouted down the hall. "Help! I need help!"

<<>>

Odessa was immediately thrown out of the room after that, as was Sam, and she anxiously paced back and forth as she attempted to patiently wait for the results. Now, she was tugging at her blouse's sleeve, walking alongside John to make an appearance for Dean. He glimpsed down at the distressed Guardian with a receptive look. "You're worrying too much," He declared, and she stopped toying the with the hem of her sleeve. "He's going to be okay."

She sighed heavily as they turned around a corner, raking her fingers through her hair. "I hope so. I don't know what I would if he were to..." She trailed off, not wanting to say the words because if she said them that would mean there was a slim possibility of it actually happening. She kneaded her shoulder, and pursed her lips. 

John nodded, understanding. "You care about him, as more than a friend," He said, and she kept her gaze straightforward, plucking at the cuff of her shirt. "You need to tell him. As much as we want  to believe we have all the time in the world, we hunters don't. Telling him now is the best choice because we don't have forever." They were by Dean's room now, and she was staring at John with bewilderment. There was an edge as he spoke—closure, farewell, and acceptance. Had he been giving her his blessing? He knocked on the doorframe with his knuckles, not bothering to wait for Odessa appear from behind him. "How you feeling, dude?" 

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive."

John nodded his head. "That's what matters."

Odessa swiftly re-gathered her composure, pushing aside the disorientation, drawing her lower lip between her teeth as she made her way to the opened doorway. She watched as Dean's gaze lowered from John, his intense, yearning stare piercing through the barrier she put up to keep herself from turning into mush. She grinned, eyes examining the large lacerations on his skin. "Hey," She simply said. 

A smile broke out on Dean's expression. "Hey," He laughed.

Sam tore his gaze from them, beaming as he watched them encounter with lovesick expressions. "Where were you last night?" He interrogated John.

John's gleeful face faltered. "I had somethings to take care of." He replied shortly.

"Well, that's specific," Dean removed his attention from the raven-haired beauty, pleading Sam to not do this now. "Did you go after the demon," John shook his head, mumbling a 'no'. "You know, why don't I believe you right now?" 

John sighed heavily, stepping into the room. "Can we not fight? You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Look, Sammy, I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay," Sam seemed to sense the same tone Odessa had minutes prior, asking him if he was okay. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just a little tired. Hey, son, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?" 

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, sure." Odessa got the impression John wanted to be alone with Dean and announced she was going too. As she exited the room, she cast John once last smile before walking out the door.

And that was the last time Odessa ever saw John Winchester alive.

<<>>

In the midst of the midnight skies and obscure, wintry environment of the woods where John Winchester languidly rested within scorching, ignited flames, Odessa couldn't stare elsewhere. The flames danced on the cream-colored duvets John was enwrapped inside, and there was something dreadfully repulsive of the conflagration. The warmth radiating and seeping through her clothes wasn't soothing or consolatory; in fact, the whole scenario was dispiriting and jolted glacial sensations down her spine. There was nothing consoling about watching your father incinerate away into ashes. 

Dean hadn't torn his piercing gaze away from the flames, and he didn't say anything unless it piqued his interest. She desperately wanted to reassure him, attempt to relieve some ounce of internal agony, but he oozed such intense emotions, there was no way Odessa was going to manage a smooth and steady conversation. There was a minuscule portion within her that would slightly miss John, much to her dismay. Sure the man was an asshole, but he also was Sam and Dean's father.

From beside her, Dean exhaled sharply, destroying the serene ambiance exchanged. "Sam told me you were planning on leaving," He spoke as if the words stung. "Were you ever going to tell me?" Odessa blinked, unsure if she'd heard him correctly. Over the course of three days, she completely forgot about her departure. Her focus was remaining on everyone's lives and safety, but now that settled down, the desire to leave came flooding back.

She swallowed the lump lodged inside her throat, craning to face him. Sensing her focus was on him, Dean looked at her with such combustible intensity she was apprehensive of looking away. She cleared her throat. "Of course I was going to tell," She said, "I didn't know when but I was going to tell you. These past couple days have been hectic, and I thought it'd be best if I just didn't mention it for a while. Not until I was sure you were okay." 

Dean clenched his jaw and she knew he was restraining himself from spurting a string of sentences he didn't mean. "Why," He questioned, voice hard and restricted. "Because I thought everything was going good with us three. I thought we were going to kill this son of a bitch together." She peered down at the laces of her boots, for they were suddenly much more interesting. She didn't know what to say. She couldn't blatantly announce she had feelings for him, and that those feelings were merely a fragment of the reason of her withdrawal. "Oh, that's right. You're scared so you're running," He was inches away from her and she could feeling the temporary animosity bubbling. "You're scared because you got too close. And you're running because you don't want to face the consequences.

You're scared of Sam, and you're scared of me. Well, guess what, sweetheart, being scared is something you just gotta deal with when you're hunting monsters and demons. Running away from your issues isn't going to make your problems magically disappear. Running away and hoping your obstacles solve on their own just means you're weak—" Dean's bantering was hastily intervened by Odessa hand colliding against his cheek. A sickening crack echoed through the trees. Dean clutched his cheek, staggering backwards. Odessa's cheek were flushed from the burning hostility, and her palm stung ferociously.

She loosened her balled fists, suppressing the urge to kick his ass right then and there. "Don't you ever call me weak again. I have been straining my ass to help you and Sam for a goddamn year helping you find your dad and kill this demon. So, excuse me for wanting to do something for myself just this once." Dean was staring at her with wide eyes, stunned by her words and previous actions. "I'm packing my bags and I'm getting the hell out of here. Don't bother looking for me." She offered one more harsh glare and reeled away, leaving behind her sorrow and exited the perimeter with burning fury.