Not my longest chapter, sorry :( And sorry for the absolutely terrible writing at the end, I'm just so stressed with finals and I'm exhausted so I guess that took a toll on my writing. 

|Questions of The Chapter|: — How's your day going? If it's going pretty bad, feel free to come and talk to me. I'll be more than happy to listen :)

—Would you guys like a chapter solely dedicated to Odessa's past? In this chapter, it briefly mentions Odessa's past and hints at some of the things she's done for her father's approval and the Organization of the Elite. I know I kinda mentioned Odessa's relationships with her family, but this chapter would go more in depth with Costello, and her parents, Sifewood (if you all remember him) and the things that made Odessa who she is and why she's afraid of accepting her feelings. 

—What's your favorite movie? My favorite movie would either be '10 Things I Hate About You', 'The Fault in Our Stars' or 'Breakfast At Tiffany's' 

—What's your favorite meme? Evil Kermit and Petty Joe Biden lmao

When agreeing to travel alongside the Winchester brothers, Odessa was certain of two things; incarceration with them was inevitable, and tragedy with them was also unavoidable. Fortunately, misfortune hadn't occurred, although remained imprison within an interrogation room for nearly an hour surely was inconvenience. She expected the confinement for the three of them to take place much sooner, especially after the events in St. Louis, but here she was a year and a half later. 

The lock from the door across the room unlocked, collecting Odessa's attention from the window. An older woman entered the interrogation room, files and coffee cup in hand as she drew near the metal desk. The Guardian unfolded her arms, regarding her presence with raised eyebrows. The detective placed the coffee at the edge of the table, sending Odessa a pursed smile. "Thought you might be thirsty." She said, quickly retracting her arm back. 

Odessa examined the woman thoughtfully, wondering if she was aware she wouldn't find anything of her existence in any database. Guardians didn't incorporate mundane laws with their own. "I've seen the movies," She said, twirling the golden serpent around her forearm. "I'm assuming you're the good cop. Where's the bad cop?" She inquired advisedly.

The detective mended her suit's cuffs. "Oh, he's with your accomplice," Odessa furrowed her eyebrows. "Dean." She spoke with such distaste the raven-haired beauty briefly wondered what Dean was charged with. 

Quirking an eyebrow, Odessa frowned. "Fine. And why exactly are you holding us?" 

Cocking her head, the detective didn't hesitate to answer. "He's being held on suspicion of murder. And you, we'll see." Odessa's eyes widened as she processed the words. Murder? From what she remembered, Dean didn't kill anyone of significance. Realization dawned upon her features as she remembered mundanes weren't aware of the existence of shape-shifters and such. "You look genuinely surprised. Or are you that good of an actor?" 

Shaking her head with closed eyes, she disregarded her rhetorical question. "Murder? Who's he supposed have murdered?" 

The detective evaded her question effortlessly. "We'll get around to that," She said, "The funny thing is I know all about Sam, and I know all about Dean. But I know nothing about you, except that you're almost as guilty as Dean. I'm guessing you're around the age of twenty-five. You've got no job, no home address. There's no record of an Odessa Santos ever existing." Odessa refrained herself from correcting her name, and exhaled sharply through her nose. 

The woman peered down at the opened files. "And there's the case of Dean. Whose demise was, well, just a little bit exaggerated. Feel free to jump in whenever you like," Odessa remained reticent as she licked her lips, crossing her arms again. "Shy? No problem. I'll keep going. Throughout the years, you've been seen on security footage on murder scenes, but you're always long gone before cops arrive. There's been reports that you're known to seduce men, have them wrapped around your finger for a night, and then they're never seen or heard from again." 

Odessa shifted uncomfortably, swallowing the lump lodged in her throat as she bypassed the detective's cold, hard stare. She definitely wasn't proud of the things she's done, the things she's seen, but there was nothing she could do to change the past. A majority of the murders she committed were given assignments from the Organization of The Elite. She was desperate for her father's approval for a time, and it didn't matter what the assignment was; whether the target was a: vampire, werewolf, demon, shape-shifter, Odessa was more than ready to eliminate those who posed a threat to humans. "You've been off the radar until about a year ago. What happened? What changed?" 

Sighing heavily, the Guardian tilted her head. "I met Sam and Dean," She replied, "Sam was coping with the death of his girlfriend—Jessica Moore. So we're taking a roadtrip, but I'm sure you already knew that, seeming as you already know everything about them, or so you claim." 

"We ran Dean's fingerprints through IAFIS. Got over a dozen possible hits." She said, enunciating the word 'dozen'. 

Odessa rolled her eyes. "Key word there is 'possible'. Those potential hits are worthless." 

The detective nodded. "But makes you wonder, what are we gonna find when we run your prints." 

The raven-hair Guardian laughed, raising her eyebrows as grabbed the coffee from the edge of the desk. "Good luck with that, seeming as you won't find anything," She sipped the black coffee with distaste. "I didn't kill those men and women, if that's what you're suggesting. But we're not here about me, are we? We're here for Dean." She retaliated, a tight grin rising as she sipped the coffee once more. 

The woman perched herself on the metal desk, allowing her to have a closer look of her suspect. "Odessa, you seem like a decent person. It's not your fault Dean came into your life. We can't choose who comes into our lives," She said, "Right now detectives in St. Louis are exhuming a corpse. They're trying to figure out how your accomplice faked his own death. After torturing all those young women. Dean's a bad guy. His life is over. Yours doesn't have to be." 

What she was indeed true, Odessa's life wasn't over. They didn't possess any form of evidence she committed those murders and disappearances, the Organization of The Elite took care of destroying evidence she may have accidentally left behind. The only thing they had were pictures and videos of her entering a building, never leaving.

Odessa craned her neck, raising her eyebrows. "You said we can't pick and choose who comes into our lives, that's where you're wrong. I allowed Dean to come into my life, and I'm choosing him to stay. So if you think you bribe me into selling him out, you're so very wrong."

Shaking her head, the detective spoke again. "We don't want you to do anything," She stood from the desk. "We already caught him cold, red-handed at the Karen Giles murder scene. We just need you to fill in some missing pieces." 

An egotistical smirk quirked on her crimson-stained lips. She realized what this was; a game. Of course Odessa wasn't going to turn against Dean, but she could buy him some time  to create some melodramatic escape. "And why would I do that?" She questioned, peering at the older woman through her lashes. 

Pulling the chair across from the Guardian, she intertwined her fingers and settled them on the desk. "Because I can talk to the D.A., make a deal for you. You can get on with your mysterious life and not look back. Dean's as good as gone." 

Odessa feigned an apprehensive expression, her semblance oozing reluctance as she softened her features. She was going to have to tell the story she, Sam, and Dean created. She had to make her performance appear authentic, and it wouldn't be a problem; she'd been doing this for years. "Dean told me his dad and Tony Giles were old friends. They were in the service together. Sam and Dean knew him since they were kids. So we came as soon as we heard about his death," Memories resurfaced of the three of them sitting at the coffee shop, discussing the murder of Anthony Giles, wondering who the hell he was. She chuckled. "So, it would've been hard for Dean to kill Tony, you know, since we weren't even town then." 

"So, tell me what happened next." The woman demanded, motioning for her to continue.

"Uh, we went to see Karen. Poor girl, she was barely keeping it together. They just wanted to be there for her. So they have her a hug, told her to call them if she needed anything, and that was it. We expressed our condolences, and we were gone." 

The woman drummed her fingers on the table, inhaling deeply. "Odessa, I am trying to help you here, but you have got to be honest with me," She demanded, voice rising. "Now, we have an eyewitness, someone who has two men and one woman, fitting yours and your accomplices description breaking into Giles' office." 

Raising her eyebrows, Odessa examined her nails. "I'm sensing a bit of frustration coming from you," She stated simply. "Look, Karen called for us later. She said there was some stuff she wanted from Tony's office, but the police weren't letting her in. It was like a picture of them in Paris, and some other stuff. I'll admit, it was wrong to enter the crime scene, but she did give us the key. So we looked for the stuff, Dean went back to Karen's place to check up on her. I mean, she was pretty upset earlier." 

"Why didn't you and Sam go with him?" 

Odessa shrugged, frowning. "I don't know, I guess we were pretty tired. We just went back to the motel. Speaking of, how did you know we were there?" 

The detective stepped forward, heels clicking against the marble floor. "We found the motel matchbook on Dean when we arrested him. Let's quit fooling around," She tossed the piece of evidence on the desk. "You were with the Winchesters the whole time you were in Baltimore. Why separate now? Because Dean left you both to go murder Karen." 

Swirling the coffee around, Odessa didn't falter in the slightest. "He didn't kill anyone." 

She slammed her palm against the desk. "I heard the 9-1-1 call! Karen was terrified! She said someone was in the house." 

The tiniest of smug smirks formed on Odessa's lips. "You seem a bit upset," She announced innocently. "Would you like to take a break?" 

<<>>

The detective, as suspected, hadn't appreciated Odessa's overcomplacent attitude with her situation. She soon discovered her name, Diana Ballard. Detective Ballard was conversing with another detective in a hushed tone as they passed by the room Odessa was contained within. They were speaking of Dean, certain he was the murderer of Karen and Anthony. She wanted to shake her and explain Dean truly wasn't guilty, but she couldn't. And the feeling of unbearable frustration was becoming quite obvious in her behavior.

For the second time that day, the door across the room unlocked and revealed an older man with a grey-tailored suit. Odessa eyed him cautiously, watching as he fidgeted inside the room. He fished for something inside his breast-pocket, displaying a folded, yellow paper clenched between his fingers. "I'm Dean's defense attorney. He asked me to deliver this." The way spoke exposed his apprehension on handing the paper over.

She raised an eyebrow, drawing nearer to where he stood. He didn't move from the doorway, and it didn't appear that he wanted to. Swiftly, she yanked the enclosed paper from his hand. As she turned her back to him, the door closed and he reluctantly scurried further into the room. She unfolded the paper, eyes flickering back and forth as she read the scribbles from Dean.

Hilts-

It's a street 'Ashland' 

You got my back, I got yours. See you soon sweetheart ;)

—McQueen

Butterflies erupted within her stomach and she grinned fervently as she creased the paper again. She knew what he was referring to, and she was more than prepared to do so. A diversion was going to be created, and she was going to be gone before anyone could notice. The defense attorney didn't appear amused. "I hope that was meaningful. But I'd like to discuss your case now." 

Tossing the paper atop the metal desk, she motioned for him to sit down. "Absolutely, please..." He nodded, pulling the chair out and sat himself down. He clicked open his briefcase, bringing out a notepad and black pen.

Before he begin questioning her and scribble down his notes, the door unlocked once again. Detective Ballard popped her head inside the doorway, jerking her head in the direction outside the interrogation room. "We need you with the other one." The defense attorney sighed heavily, packing his things and exited the room alongside Diana Ballard. 

Waiting for a few minutes, she made sure their footsteps departed in the distance before she stood on her heels. Pivoting to face the window, she pushed aside the blinds. The sun beamed on her face, and she couldn't help but laugh to herself. Who leaves a potential criminal alone with a window that opens? 

Unlocking the window, she lifted the glass from the sill, taking a deep breath as breeze brushed against her skin. There was a twisted excitement bubbling inside her as she swung her leg over the sill and crouched to squeeze through. There wasn't fire escape near her window, which was quite idiotic if you asked Odessa, but the ledge was thick enough for her cross over to the nearest one. Grinning maniacally, she closed the window with the tip of her shoes and made her down the metal latter.

Grumbling in discontent as the bottom of her heels slammed upon the concrete in a balletic manner, her eyes swiftly scanned her environment. The alleyway's stench wasn't pleasant in the slightest, and as she trudged through the assemblage of trash she wondered if Sam received the same message from Dean. She observed the chaotic street for an abnormally tall man, the sleek paint of the Impala, or the acquainted rumble of the Impala's engine. She didn't find either of her observations. 

Squeaking hinges from the fire escape no more than fifteen feet away captured Odessa's attention, and an unduly grinned formed as she saw what the sources was. Sam's lengthy legs swung with each movement he made to climb down, and she couldn't help but find it funny. She sped over to him once he was on the ground, jerking her chin in the direction of the crowded street. "All right, you find the Impala, I'll get the Yellow Pages," She demanded, "Let's go, Jim Rockford."

<<>>

Odessa was sprawled across the motel's duvets, examining and flipping through a series of crime scene photographs. The grim pictures were disturbing to scan, regardless of the things she's seen and committed, and she often found herself grimacing at the gore. Sam was perched on chair beside the dining table, looking through his own photographs and typing away on his laptop's keyboard. She'd purchased sandwiches and pretzels from a vending machine nearby, and the inferior flavor was enough to upset her stomach.

Dean's absence was uncharted territory, and it was almost too quiet for her. She missed him, not that she would confess aloud, and the closest thing she had to him was his leather jacket. As she shrugged the excessively large jacket over her smaller frame, she was greeted with the satisfying aroma of his cologne. Sam assumed she didn't catch him glimpsing at her smelling the sleeves, so he didn't comment on her evident yearning for his brother. 

She knew they were getting him back, there wasn't any way they were leaving this dreadful town without him, but his clothing enwrapped around her brought her comfort. She wondered what he was doing, who he was pissing off now, and if he too knew they were retrieving him soon. 

A knock from the door captured Odessa's attention and she froze, glancing warily at the door then at the youngest Winchester. Sam silently motioned for her to remain seated on the bed, and stood from his chair. He strode to the door, reluctantly twisting the knob and pulling open the door. From where Odessa was perched, she couldn't decipher who was standing at the doorway, but it was someone significantly shorter than Sam and someone he wasn't expecting. She watched as his shoulders tensed, gradually backing away from the door. 

Odessa's eyes widened as she witnessed an apprehensive Detective Ballard enter the motel room. She straightened her posture as the older woman fixed her stare on her, appearing to have regret showing up on their doorstep. "I'm not here to arrest you," She declared, tone exposing her distinct desire to do so anyway. "Dean told me I could find you here. He thinks I'm next." She pushed down her sleeves, exposing the darkened bruises forming on her wrists. 

Sam examined them, glancing up at her. "These showed up after you saw it?" He asked. 

Diana nodded softly. "Yeah, I guess." 

"All right. You're gonna have to tell us exactly what you saw."

Sighing heavily, Diana shifted on her feet. "You know, I must be losing my mind," She said, walking to the side. "You're a fugitive. And she's our prime suspect for more than a dozen missing cases and unsolved murders. I should be arresting you both." 

Odessa rolled her eyes once more, pushing herself off the bed. "Well, you can arrest us after we save your life," She disregarded Sam's questioning gaze, not entirely wanting to explain the things she's done at the moment. "But right now, we need a description, okay?" Diana swallowed the lump in her throat, nodding again. Odessa exhaled sharply as she sat down. "Okay. Great. Now, the spirit, what did it look like?"  

"She was really pale...and her throat was cut. And her eyes, they were like this deep, dark red. It appeared like she was trying to talk to me, but she couldn't. It was just...a lot of blood." Sam glanced the piles of paper he placed on the tabletop. 

"You know what? Here. I've been researching every girl who has ever died or gone missing from Ashland street." He said, gathering the photographs from the pile and tidily stacking them. 

Diana furrowed her eyebrows, gesturing towards the photographs. "How did you get those? Those are from crime scenes and booking photos." Sam chuckled softly, glimpsing towards Odessa's direction. She crossed her arms across her chest, laughing lightly as pondered on the irony of this ordeal. 

He half-shrugged, smiling gingerly. "You have your job. We have ours," He said, choosing to disregard her grim glare as he handed her the pictures. "Here. I need you to look through these. Tell me if you recognize anyone." 

The detective sat herself down at the edge of the bed, flipping through the pictures. She froze on one in particular, analyzed the blonde in the photo's features, and handed the picture back to Sam. "This is her," She affirmed, "I'm sure of it."

Odessa snatched the image from Diana's hand, reading over the words on the bottom. "Claire Becker. Twenty-eight years old. She disappeared roughly around eight or nine months ago." 

Diana shook her head, as if she couldn't comprehend the whole situation. "But I don't even know her. Why would she come after me?" 

Reviewing the photograph once more, Odessa shrugged nonchalantly. "Before her death, she'd been arrested twice for dealing heroin. Have you ever worked in narcotics," She asked. Diana nodded, informing them she and Pete had before homicide. "Then did you ever arrest her?" 

Shaking her head once more, Detective Ballard claimed she hadn't, not that she remembered. Sam stole the picture from Odessa's grasp, placing it back on the pile. "Says she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland street. Police searched the place, didn't find anything. Guess we gotta check it out ourselves, see if we can find her body." 

Eyes widening considerably, Detective Ballard swiftly stood on her feet. "What?"

"Well, we got salt and burn her bones. It's the only way to put her spirit to rest."

"Of course it is."

<<>>

Odessa ambled alongside Sam Winchester when they entered the abandoned building, their flashlights illuminating pathways. The air was contaminated with years worth of dust, stench of decay and an atrocious dampness. Her nose tingled with discomfort as she inhaled, nearly cringing every time she breathed. The room they embarked on was suffused with discarded items ranging from empty glass bottles to relinquished car parts. Detective Ballard directed her beam in every direction, unsure of what she was searching for. "So, what exactly are we looking for?" She asked.

Sam didn't chance her a glance. "I'll let you know when we find it." He paused momentarily, guiding his beam towards the staircase in the distance. He scurried towards the rickety stairs, and Odessa inwardly disagreed with his decision to walk upon the feeble steps. Shaking her head, she continued onward with clenched fists. 

The whole room reeked of superstitious fear and growth of fungi, and Odessa would've preferred if she weren't inside this enclosed room with a woman who was more than determined to imprison her. There was an unmistakable tension interchanged between her and Diana, one that made the whole investigation unbearable. 

Detective Ballard cleared her throat, gathering Odessa from her intensive thoughts. "Now that I'm working with fugitives," She began," What was the motive?" She questioned, quickly examining a cloth stained with dried blood.

Odessa furrowed her brows together, peering over her shoulder to glance at the woman tentatively. "I'm not sure I understand what you're asking." She replied, returning her attention back on the cluttered path. 

Diana scoffed from behind her. "You're an intelligent woman, Odessa," She said, "A lot more than you lead on, and perhaps that's why the law enforcement underestimates you. So I wanna know what the motive was," She repeated, and this time Odessa's discerned the sternness in her tone. "Why did you kill those men and women?" 

Temporarily pausing, Odessa swallowed the clump lodged within her throat as she blinked. She didn't want to deal with this now, and those memories of blood and gore resurfacing were enough to have a wave of nausea crash down on her. "I-I needed to," She mumbled, "I had direct orders." Attempting to lie was useless, Diana was more than certain Odessa was responsible for those murders, and there was no reason to. After this, Odessa would never see her again. 

"Direct orders from who, Odessa," She demanded, though her tone was increasingly softer. "We can help you." 

Odessa shook her head, fighting the threatening tears brimming. "You can't, not anymore. They're all gone," She murmured, "And if even they were still here, they were something no one could control." 

She opened her mouth to reply, but her eyes peered over Odessa's shoulder, eyes flaring with terror. Scrunching her eyebrows together, Odessa trailed her gaze, but was greeted with thin air. "Are you not seeing this," She whispered, inching backwards with wide eyes. "Odessa, Sam! Sam!" 

Sam's thundering footsteps echoed throughout the room, and he was by their side instantaneously. "Claire. She was here."

"Did she attack either of you?" 

Odessa and Diana shook their head. "No, she was just reaching out to me. She over there by the window. She dashed across the room, pulling at one of the several metal shelves. "Help me move this," She demanded, and the two of them yanked at the poles, successfully pushing aside the cupboard. Rays of sunlight seemed through a stained window, and Odessa read over the words printed on the glass. "Our little mystery word."

<<>> 

The uncertainty and reliance with love was utterly terrifying.

She'd witnessed a woman achingly discover her lover was ultimately the one who'd been committing the murders, and the heartache and betrayal was more than distinct in her eyes. Detective Ballard's cold exterior shattered when clutching Claire Becker's necklace, one that was identical to the one she was wearing. And now as Diana aimed her gun at the one she loved, Odessa couldn't help but be absolutely terrified of love that very second. "I know about Claire."

Pete kept his weapon aimed at Dean, and the charcoal-haired Guardian felt her stomach flip with fear. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Put the gun down." She demanded. 

Pete shook his head. "No, I don't think so. You're fast. Pretty sure I'm faster." Odessa glanced in Dean's direction, sending him a wary glance. She wasn't sure of what to do, what precautions she should take, and if she should attack. He quickly shook his head, already certain of what she was wordlessly asking. He wasn't going to have her be injured because she was feeling heroic, or worse, die because she wanted to save him. 

A vehement gunshot reverberated off the array of trees. Odessa gasped as she watched Dean roll to the side, and for a moment she thought it was him who Diana pulled the trigger on. But as she watched Pete collapse to the floor and groaned while clutching his hand wound, Odessa sighed in relief. "Then why don't you buy me another necklace, you ass." 

Pete tackled her ankles, bringing her down on the grassy field. Diana shrieked as she collided with the floor and as Pete yanked the gun from her grass, aiming it at both Sam and Odessa. "Don't do it. Don't do it." Odessa raised her hands in surrender, watching as he hopped to relieve the pressure of his wound. 

He was attempting to back away when everyone's attention was piqued at the pale figure behind him. Freezing, Pete lowered his weapon, whirling around to see what their alteration in behavior was about. Claire Becker was standing inches from him, groaning as she distracted him. Diana grabbed the other gun and raised it high, pulling the trigger with a blank expression.

Love made people do crazy things for people, but so did betrayal and fury.