All right, hey, guys! How are you doing? I'm honestly just trying to finish season 2, especially since I have amazing things planned for Odessa's character. I'm proud to announce our precious Odessa De Los Santos is getting her own plotline in the next book! I can assure you Odessa's character will improve and I have so much in store for her. But, back to the point, I'm skipping episode 18 'Hollywood Babylon'. I know I've skipped so many episodes already, but, like I said, I'm just trying to finish season 2 (it isn't my favorite season). And if I were to write that chapter, it wouldn't come out as I wanted it to, and I don't want you guys reading something I didn't put effort into. So, yeah, this chapter is based on episode 19 "Folsom Prison Blues", and I hope you enjoy. 

BUT WAIT...GUESS WHAT?! THIS CHAPTER AND THE NEXT ONE ARE THE LAST CHAPTERS OF THE BOOK BEFORE THE SEASON FINALE! AHHHHH THAT IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE! LIKE I DID WITH THE SEASON FINALE OF SEASON 1, THE LAST TWO EPISODES WILL BE 1 CHAPTER. SO THAT MEANS 2 CHAPTERS BEFORE THIS BOOK IS OVER!

P.S. HER EMBLEM BURNING IS HELLA IMPORTANT FOR THE SEASON FINALE AND THIRD BOOK SO DON'T PUSH IT ASIDE!

The burning nostalgia scorched Odessa's stomach as the butterflies with ignited wings fluttered within, another fiery indication of blood shed for her cause years before. The nightmares were increasingly becoming burdensome, and she didn't know what provoked the sudden disruptions of her sleep. She'd been fine for months, possibly even a year, where she wasn't oppressed with the haunting images of her family and burning emblems. She didn't know when the last time her mark burned her skin, and she didn't want to remember, but it'd been a while. But as she stared off into the darkness of the motel room, clutching her forearm unwaveringly, memories of the burning sensation resurfaced. 

The pain was increasing, becoming nearly unbearable, but there wasn't anything she could've done to ease the pain. Biting down on her lower lip, she'd drawn blood to conceal her whimpers. She didn't want to wake either Sam or Dean, and she didn't want either of them questioning her as to why she was awake so late and bleeding. She wasn't in any particular mood to be interrogated and answering questions she didn't have proper answers to. 

Dusk arrived sooner than she thought, and the soft rays of seeping moonlight lessened as the sunlight emerged through the curtains. Odessa couldn't return to her slumber, the pain and dreadful images were too disruptive for her, and she wasn't tired anymore, much to her dismay. She was exhausted, the kind of fatigue that derived from mental exertion, and couldn't be relieved by sleep. With an enfeebled mind and placid silence accompanying her, she focused her attention on anything else to distract her from this torment. 

Sam appeared much more alleviated with Madison's death, Odessa noticed he didn't flinch when hearing her name anymore. When the topic was referenced, Sam simply shrugged the topic off, choosing to reply with one-worded answers or not answer at all. She didn't blame him, nor did she mention Madison unless it was completely necessary. Losing someone you cared deeply for wasn't easy, especially when you're the reason they're gone. She remembered consoling Sam's shattered state for multiple nights, making sure he was fine when attending cases. She didn't want him doing anything he wasn't comfortable doing, or physically and emotionally unprepared for. They often exchanged glances, ones varying from 'are you okay' and 'just give me a sign and we can go', and he often responded with 'trust me, I'm fine' and 'thank you'.

Dean shuffled beside her, securely wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer. For a brief moment Odessa was home. She grew accustomed with the lack of a stationary home, a place where she could decorate her room and have a suitable bed. She was acquainted with calling the Impala her home, but whenever Dean held her, she momentarily understood the ethereal sensation of warmth and protection. A feeling of security and solidarity she didn't experience anywhere else. She gingerly traced the veins on his arm, distracting herself from the pain and the idiotic stunt they were planning on performing.

Sighing heavily through her nose, Odessa closed her eyes and disregarded the pain. She didn't know what tomorrow had in store for her, but in that moment, enraptured by the comfort from Dean's embrace, she didn't care.

<<>>

The Arkansas Museum of Anthropology was exceptionally hushed as Odessa stealthily hustled through the Mesoamerican exhibits alongside the Winchesters. The showcased galleries and displayed artifacts were dimly illuminated by low-beamed lights, sparsely depicting the artistry. Regardless if they knew how this 'heist' was going to happen, Odessa couldn't help the apprehensive thumping of her heart as she noticed the security alarm was triggered.  They'd been examining some of the artifact they unlocked from the casing, waiting for the arrest to happen. They knew what they were doing, they carefully created this plan and had their escape ready, so Odessa was going to have as much fun as she could with this.

From the far distance, Odessa's attention was piqued by a distinctive thumping, the sound of heavy footsteps and doors clashing against walls. The three of them froze in sync, processing the sounds of their incoming custody. Sam jerked his head toward the direction of the sounds, motioning for them to follow him. Dean nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he made his way to Odessa. He carefully cupped her cheeks, his plump lips softly colliding with her own. She closed her eyes, relishing the tingling she received from his studious touch. This was kiss was different. This was the kind of kiss you received when you weren't sure if things would be okay in the end.

Reluctantly pulling away from him, Odessa smiled softly and interlaced her fingers with his. She pulled him outside the doorway, making their way through the corridors with ascertained expressions. Turning to face Sam, she offered a pursed smile, attempting to reassure him. She knew he didn't like this plan, and she didn't blame him. This was definitely one of their worst ideas, but she needed to be entirely resolute for herself and Sam. He feigned a smile in response, but as they turned around a corner, his smile immediately fell as they were greeted with blinding flashlights and boisterous shouts. "Freeze! Don't move!" 

Odessa's eyes squinted as she whirled around to evade their approach, but was only greeted with even more policemen. "Hold it right there! Put your hands behind your heads and down on your knees, now!" The three of the apprehensively obliged, halting in place and followed their demands. Odessa fell to the floor, focusing her attention on the police radio's indistinct chatter. She refrained herself from wincing as the officer gripped her forearm tightly, erupting a wave of fiery shudders. "Behind your back. Other hand." The handcuffs clicked as she glimpsed towards Dean, eyeing him uneasily. With one last sigh, she was forced to her feet and dragged outside.

<<>>

Odessa's cunning smirk widened as the door of the interrogation room opened after an hour of waiting. Entering the doorway with bland expressions were two men; one of which had darker complexion, and reeked of self-assurance. He examined her mellow demeanor with an amused expression, exchanging a look with his partner. "Well, neither of you certainly don't care whether if I'm hungry or not," She said, crossing her arms. "I'll take a cheeseburger, no onions." She dismissed them with a wave of her hand, fully aware they weren't leaving. He'd asked if she thought she were funny. The man fabricated a laughed, cuing his partner to feign a laugh alongside him. Odessa examined her newly-painted nails, disinterested with the conversation already. She needed to know if Sam and Dean were finished with taking their mugshots. If they were, she needed to continue with the formulated plan. Pouting theatrically, she dropped her hand to her thigh. "I think I'm adorable, but I like to think I'm funny, too." She said, craning her head to properly face him. 

The man cocked his head tauntingly. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Odessa." She muttered a hushed 'likewise' and he ignored her, continuing with his introductions."I'm special agent Victor Henrickson. This is my partner, special agent Reidy." Hendrickson greeted, and her sly smirk faltered slightly as she remembered his voice.

Odessa inquired, "Henrickson? Do you happen to be the Milwaukee agent Henrickson? You know, the one obsessed with me and my boys?" This was going to be much more problematic than predicted, especially with nutcase on her case. 

Jerking his head, he answered, "Live and in person," Opening one of the several files, he pulled out a photograph of her several appearances in surveillance footage. Her hair was in a sleek ponytail, and she wore thick-rimmed sunglasses, which didn't do her any justice. "Ah, nice shot. You can hang that up in your cell at super max." He said, sliding the photograph on the metal table.  

Frowning egotistically, she uncrossed her arms. "So, I'm guessing that's a no for the cheeseburgers? How about some fries instead?"  

Henrickson scowled. "Oh, yeah. Keep that game face on. Try and cover up how cornered you are," Odessa simply smirked, and continued to keep her facade. "Read her the chargers." 

"You got mail fraud, credit-card fraud, grave desecration." Henrickson intervened, demanding his partner to skip to the good ones. "Armed robbery, kidnapping, and you're a suspect on fifteen murder cases." 

"And after Milwaukee, Sam is now a suspect in a murder case himself. I'd say, for you three, 'screwed to hell' is a major understatement," Henrickson said, "If there's life, there's hope is what I kept thinking as I was searching for your asses all over hell and gone. You were taught well. The way you cover your tracks, and after Milwaukee, the way you guys vanished. Near went nuts trying to find you ask him." His partner simply repeated him, claiming he indeed went near nuts. "And after all that, you get tripped up on a motion detector. Pretty rookie move. Got to say, I was...surprised." 

Odessa leaned forward, simpering in his direction. "It is a pretty rookie move, isn't it?" Was all she said. The door opened before Henrickson could respond, and entered a blonde, asking Odessa if she was who she said she was. "In the flesh."

"And you are?" 

"Mara Daniels, Public Defender's Office. I've been assigned you and the Winchester's case," Mara said, shaking Odessa's hand. She looked up. "Are you Henrickson?" 

"Yeah, and we're not quite done here." 

Mara scoffed. "Uh, yeah. You are. And if you don't mind, I would like to meet with my clients, privately." 

Odessa chuckled, leaning back into her chair. "You heard her," She said, "Privately, and I'm sure that doesn't include you."

<<>>

Odessa hadn't been sure how this wasn't going to be questionable or contentious, and she wasn't certain how this was even approved. Her attorney, Mara Daniels, informed the three of them Odessa would be briefly detained with the other adjoining criminals. The women's section of the prison was briefly being closed down for unknown reasons. Although this assisted them on their mission, the Guardian's main concern was if this going to affect their capability of accomplishing the case. She didn't want to be taken away from the men's section before they could stop the ghost. However, for now, she was notified she was to be accompanied with an officer at all times and advised not speak to any of the men.

So, here she was, handcuffed and being tossed to the first place she could be temporarily restrained. She would've preferred if the officer wasn't breathing down her shoulder the entire ride, but she obviously didn't have a say on her preferences. Being yanked on her feet, Odessa could feel the hinges of her restrains digging inside her skin with each step. She watched as Sam and Dean were escorted outside the cramped bus, restrained just as she was. This was easily one of the most idiotic plans they've ever performed before.

Stepping outside the bus, a frigid breeze collided with her skin and scrutinized the vapid structure. The Green River County Detention Center's courtyard was brimming with peculiar-looking criminals, ones of which observed Odessa's every move hungrily. The chains of her restraints jingled and she had to refrain herself from choking them with the chains as they wolf-whistled and crowded around the gate. Sending them a fiery glare, the men simply made obscene gestures and continued catcalling. This was going to be a long, terrible week.

The upside was she got to have her own cell.

<<>>

"How can you even find this even remotely edible," Odessa questioned Dean as she placed her tray beside his own. She somehow convinced her officer to stand around fifteen feet away from her during lunch, promising she wasn't going to start trouble, and if she had, he could taser her as much as he desired. "This smells worse than the sewers we've walked in." She thought back on the stench of rotting flesh and human feces and immediately discarded the images. 

Dean continued chewing on the dried chicken breast, only pausing when Odessa perched herself beside him. "You know, this chicken isn't half-bad." She scrunched her nose in distaste, shoving her platter towards him, Sam mimicked her motions. 

"Great. Finish mine," Sam said, "All right, so, let's go back over this. Spirit suspect number one is Mark Moody, right?" 

"Yeah, psycho killer extraordinaire—satanism, ritual murder, died in jail." Sam furrowed his eyebrows together, watching in disdain as Dean devoured his food, and mumbled 'are you sure'. "Pretty sure." Was all Dean said in response.

Odessa leaned forward, resting her forearms on top of the table. "Dean, considering our circumstances, and the fact that I'm wearing an orange jumpsuit, we're gonna need more than a 'pretty sure'." She said.

"Really pretty sure," Odessa rolled her eyes and kicked his shin. He winched, but continued nonetheless. "Moody died of a heart attack, which is exactly what all of the victims in here are dying of. Okay, he died in the old cellblock, which they closed right after he croaked, about thirty years ago. They just opened that back up. That's when the killings started." 

Sam spoke in a hushed whisper, "So you think his spirit was released somehow?" He asked, peering over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening in. Dean didn't speak, only hummed as he continued eating his inedible meal. "But what if he was already cremated?" 

Dean swallowed his food. "I'm guessing there's something in the old block that belongs to him that's keeping him around? Whatever it is, we got to find it. And, uh, you both know the rest. I'm done." He said as he clapped his hands together, standing on his feet and making his way to the exit. Odessa and Sam stood as well, following after him. Sam turned to mumble something to her when he roughly collided with another inmate, groaning in response as he stumbled back. Sam, being the sweetheart he was, was quick to apologize but was immediately interrupted.

"Watch where you're going." Was all the inmate said, and Odessa scrunched her eyebrows together in vexation. 

"Yep, sure, I was—" Sam began, but ceased as Dean pushed passed him.

"He said he was sorry." Dean affirmed, and Odessa stepped forward, muttering his name in hopes of catching his attention, but her voice wasn't enough. From her peripheral vision, she could see her officer watching the scene unfold, awaiting for an altercation to begin.

The inmate stiffened, eyeing Dean as if he were nothing but mud under his shoe. "You talkin' to me? Are you talkin' to me?" 

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Oh, great, another guy who's seen 'Taxi Driver' one too many times. Yeah, I'm talking to you. Trust me. Let it go." Turning to face them, he smiled widely. "See, that's how you got to talk to these guys. Instant respect." He said, clicking his tongue.

From the distance, the inmate was speaking with another man, jerking his head in their direction. The much larger man nodded and stood, following after the initial inmate. "You were saying?" She sarcastically asked, crossing her arms as the men charged Dean's way. The first criminal threw a sloppy punch, one Dean easily dodged, and effortlessly restrained him. Odessa watched him proudly.

"We can end this right now—no harm, no foul." The inmate elbowed Dean's stomach, but Dean seamlessly constrained him, pushing him towards a wall. The man stepped on Dean's toes, but the Winchester quickly kicked his groin, then smashed his knee into his nose. 

"That's enough!" A voice from the distance shouted. "On your feet, Lucas." The inmate, whose name apparently was Lucas, stood and scurried away. The voice belonged to an older man, an officer, and, guessing by his fluid way of walking, he had higher power. He pulled out his club stick and placed it under Dean's chin. "What's your name?" 

Through gritted teeth, Dean apprehensively responded, "Winchester."

"Well, Winchester...not a good start," The man said, "Solitary. You too, Lucas." Three guards came from all directions and dragged the duo away and into wherever solitary was.

<<>>

Odessa was genuinely questioning if her fondness for the Winchesters was enough for her to endure this form of treatment, especially with tolerating the fabric of the mandatory uniform. She was stuck performing the less strenuous activities, such as mopping the unsanitary bathrooms with older men with arthritis. She didn't know where Sam was, she wished he was here with her and accompanying her in this dreadful employment. She was certain Dean was contained in solitary, and she could already hear his jokes about McQueen. Peering over her shoulder, Odessa glimpsed over where the older man mopped the floor. "How are you doing so far?" She asked. 

The man didn't answer immediately, and for a brief moment, Odessa thought he didn't hear her speak. "I'm fifty-four years old mopping the floor of a crapper with bars on the windows. How you think I'm doing?" He questioned sarcastically. 

Odessa paused, chuckling softly as she raised her eyebrows. "Fair enough, just wanted to break the ice." She said, swishing the mop's tendrils around in the murky water. The edges of the bucket foamed with opaque bubbles. "I'm Odessa." She introduced herself, lifting the mopstick from the bucket and slid it across the marble floor. The man introduced himself as 'Randall'. "Well, nice to meet you, Randall." She froze, processing the familiarity of the name. "If you don't mind me asking, weren't you there the night that guard died? What happened?"

Randall didn't bother chancing her a glance. "They say the stress of the job got him." He informed.

Odessa stopped mopping the floor momentarily. "What do you say," She inquired, voice slow and arrogant. Randall stopped as well, and she was pleased with finally receiving a reaction from him. "Just sounds like a scripted answer, that's all." She half-shrugged, continuing with her substandard duties. He sighed, then pursued with his actions. He deflected her question and asked one of his own, and she nearly praised him for his nonchalance. "I'm in love with an idiot," She answered truthfully to his question of why she was in here. "And because I have an idiot as a best friend, too." 

"That'll do it." Randall said, "Aw, this place ain't so bad. Compared to the old cellblock, it's the damn Hilton." 

Halting, Odessa whirled around and faced him with wide eyes. "You've spent time in the old cellblock?" Randall momentarily glimpsed her way, confirming he indeed was a regular customer there. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't they have a Mark Moody over there for a while?" She inquired. 

"Yeah, he was there. You know, I was there, too, the night that lunatic bought it." Odessa's eyes widened considerably as she chuckled breathlessly as she asked if his death derived from a heart attack as well. "Sure, his heart stopped right after the guard stopped using his head for batting practice. Next morning, I was in his cell mopping up the blood. What a mess."

"Wait, I don't understand. He was beaten to death, but no one reported it?"

"You kept your mouth shut unless you wanted to die from the same heart attack, you know?" 

Thinking of the million possibilities, Odessa stopped mopping entirely. "Hey, Randall, I know this is gonna sound weird, but exactly how much blood was there?"

<<>>

Scornfully observing Dean gather his earned cigarettes from his poker game, Odessa spread her arms wide in a questioning manner. "Dude, you don't even smoke." She remarked, dodging the incoming shoves and ungainly gropes. Being one of the very few women here, performing daily tasks was troublesome. She couldn't go anywhere without being watched as if she was were a steak in a lion's den. Her guard always stood away as far as he could go, having been aware of her record, and seemed to be expecting her to flip out and murder someone. 

Dean began piling his cards once again. "Are you kidding me? This is the currency of the realm." Restraining herself from rolling her eyes, she tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear. She reached to fiddle with her necklace, but was greeted with nothingness. She'd forgotten they'd taken her necklace and bracelet, and she desperately needed them back. She wouldn't leave this horrendous place without either of them in her possession. 

She leaned in closer, settling her forearms on the chipping wooden table. "They're just cigarettes—whatever, it doesn't matter. I've got a good lead on Moody," She paused, grinning widely. "And I think I've made a new friend. He's cold on the outside, but I can tell he's a softie on the inside." She grabbed one of the rolling cigarettes and examined it intently. 

Dean plucked it from her grasp. "Yeah, me too. His spirit paid a little visit last night," Odessa's head snapped in his direction, nearly shouting 'what'. "The clock stopped, the flickering lights, cold spots. I mean, he did everything but yell, 'boo'. He walked right by me. Lucas wasn't so lucky. I mean, the way he was screaming...the guy was a jerk, but he didn't deserve to go like that," He said, "What'd you find out on Moody?" He paused, his expression altering into something completely different. "Wait, you made a friend? Who is this guy?"

She shook herself from her clambering thoughts. "Oh, calm down. He's fifty-four," She reassured, dismissing his worries with a wave of her hand. "Besides, I think I know where we can find his remains. Apparently there was a crap-ton of blood in his cell. Turns out his cause of death was because of having his head smashed a thousands times. I guess there was so much blood they had trouble cleaning it up." 

"How are we gonna get in?" 

She grinned cunningly. "I've got a plan," She said, "You mind getting your hands a little dirty?" 

Dean smirked in response. "For you? Never."

<<>>

Odessa was beginning to grow fond of this courtyard, the few memories she'd created were virtually some of the most bizarre memories, but she did thoroughly appreciate the eccentricity of the place. She couldn't necessarily say she'd experienced anything like this before, nor did she think she would ever, but everything was contrasting from the outside world she couldn't help but find it satisfying. If her father, especially Sifewood, were here, she would've experienced their wrath for being detained for the love of two men. Sifewood would make it her own personal hell for growing soft. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes firmly. She didn't want to think of either of them, both brought unspeakable memories she wasn't okay with remembering. She oriented her clamoring thoughts back on Sam and Dean, wondering where they were. After Dean's visitation in the infirmary, she asserted her remorse as Dean was glaring her direction while being escorted. She didn't think he would've been brought to the infirmary, she thought he would've been tossed in solitary again, and maybe he could've seen the ghost again. So her plan with Dean purposely erupting a fight with an enormous man called 'Tiny' didn't work, her plan with using the stolen salt from the kitchen and lighting the blood with lighter fluid she acquired from selling Dean's cigarettes worked, however. 

A firm grasp on her forearm piqued her attention as she was casually reclined against the metal fence. She was milliseconds from breaking whoever's hand was touching her when she whirled around and was welcomed with Sam's scrunched-up expression and Dean's typical arrogance. Dean quickly began explaining the events that took place in the infirmary as Sam carefully dragged her away from the other inmates. "Wait, so this wasn't Moody?" Odessa asked, thinking back on the ignited flames on Moody's sheets.

Dean shoved his hands inside his pockets. "Not unless he liked going around dressed like a nurse. Poor Tiny, man. Poor giant Tiny." This didn't make sense. She would've thought burning the bedsheets with Moody's dried blood would've definitely stopped the hauntings. But with Tiny's death, which certainly wasn't a heart attack judging by Dean's description, this must've been someone else's spirit. 

Sam, befuddled as Odessa was, continued to question his older brother, "Wait, so this—this is, like, the ghost of some nurse who worked here or something?" Dean, just as confused as they were, didn't have a proper answer and just mumbled 'I don't know, man'. "You know what, Dean, at this point, 'I don't know, I guess' isn't really working for me. See, uh, I thought we were done. I called Deacon. It's happening—we're getting out tonight." Sam said. 

Dean didn't appear too fazed with this newfound information. "I guess we got to do some quick research, then." Sam was quick to ask him how they were going to possibly do that since they were in jail. It was true, they couldn't access any books or computers, so she wasn't sure how this was going to work. Dean looked down at her. "Where's your friend with all the answers?" He asked. 

Odessa searched the courtyard thoroughly before her gaze landed on the older man who sat in seclusion. She jutted her chin in his direction, and the three of them made their way over to him. Dean immediately began asking him about the mysterious nurse, but Randall didn't seem to appreciate the approach. "So you want to know about some nurse?" Sam frowned, then nodded. "Why you wanna know?" Randall inquired.  

Dean shrugged, "Well, we got our reasons." Randall, appearing unamused by this response, didn't look like he was going to answer any time soon. 

Odessa, with nimble fingers, grabbed the pack of unopened cigarettes and displayed it for him to see. "Please, Randall," She pleaded, "We'll make it worth your while." Randall sighed softly, taking the cigarettes from her hand and stuffed it inside his pocket, then motioned for her to continue. Odessa thought back to the description Dean had told her. "This nurse would've had white hair, and a screwed up eye. Is that ringing a bell?"  

Randall nodded." Yeah, yeah. I remember her." 

Dean asked, "Do you remember her name?" 

Randall shook his head. "No, that's still kind of fuzzy." Odessa and Sam chuckled as they realized he did know her name, he just wasn't releasing any information without receiving anything in return. Sam motioned to the cigarettes inside Dean's jacket, demanding his brother give it to him. 

Shaking his head 'no', Dean replied curtly, "I earned these." 

Odessa's eyebrows puckered together as she narrowed her eyes in disbelief. "Yeah? And I've earned the right to kick your ass if you don't hand it over right now." Dean glared harshly her way before exhaling sharply through his nose, extending his arms forward, he offered the other pack of cigarettes. Randall took that box too and placed it inside. "Remember now?" Odessa asked, turning to face the inmate.

"Glockner. Nurse Glockner. Nasty, old bitch worked here in the seventies." Randall said, "I met her once. Had to get a tetanus shot, she damn near jabbed the needle through the other side of my arm. At least I got out of there alive." Sam asked what he meant by that. "Oh, there were these stories, you know. I don't know if they were true. Cons love to talk, but we're all liars." 

"What kind of stories?" 

"Well, guys would go up to the infirmary with a cold, next thing you know, they were in a body bag. A whole rash of heart attacks—young guys, old guys." He explained, "The story was Glockner had it out for cons, and she did this Charles Bronson thing with a hypodermic. Anyway, that was the rumor. Nobody ever proved anything."

"Whatever happened to Glockner?" 

Randall directed his attention on Dean. "I don't know. I finished my bid and left. Next time I landed in here, she was gone."

<<>>

"You want me to what?" 

Odessa desisted the urge to blatantly roll her eyes as her lawyer, Mara Daniels, candidly exclaimed her bewilderment while pressing the telephone against her ear. She didn't know why she was stuck completing this task, there were several things she could've done instead. Everyone who knew Odessa knew she didn't play nice with the law. "Mara, come on, this is the third time I've said it. Her name was Glockner, okay? She was nurse who worked here in the seventies," Odessa repeated exasperatedly. "I need you to find out everything you can about her, but, most importantly, how she died and where's she buried. So, if you could do that now, that would be great." 

Mara stared at Odessa wide-eyed, astonished. "Are you nuts? Do you have any idea the kind of trouble you're in here for?" 

Odessa glimpsed skyward, feigning contemplation. "I have a very vague notion, very vague."

Mara nodded. "Good. So let's forget about some random nurse and talk about your case." 

Sighing through puffed cheeks, Odessa grasped the telephone tighter. "Listen, sweetheart," She began, "I understand that you're trying to help me, I do, but this is the only way you can help me. I wish I could explain, but I can't. You're just going to have to trust me on this."

"Why should I? Henrickson says you're a monster." 

The Guardian laughed, "I'm the monster? If anything the men with the badge are the monsters. But he's not entirely wrong, all right? I'm not what they say I am, but I'm no saint either. If you're as intelligent as I think you are, you can probably tell if someone's guilty by just looking at them," Odessa suggested, "So look at me. Really look at me, and you tell me. Am I guilty?" 

Mara didn't say anything. "I may be a monster, Mara, but not all monsters do monstrous things." And with that, Odessa placed the telephone back on the wall and walked out of the room without another word.

Minutes passed when Odessa was swiftly brought back to the courtyard, hurriedly greeted with both brothers. She didn't know how they were going to successfully execute this plan in roughly five hours. "She didn't go for it," Odessa said before they could mutter a single word. "I'm hoping she'll come around, but doesn't seem likely." 

Sam stepped forward. "Well, we can't wait around to find out," Dean quickly suggested they give it another day, but Sam didn't seem to keen on that idea. "No, no, no. We're leaving tonight, and that's it." Although Odessa wanted to solve this case, she wasn't staying another night in this forsaken place. There wasn't a moment where she didn't feel as if she were going to be pounced on. 

"So we're not gonna finish the job. We're just gonna let these people die." This predicament was something she wished she didn't have to deal with, Odessa didn't want to be stuck in these positions. She despised the fact that Sam and Dean often put their lives last and didn't think of the consequences. 

"Don't give me that, all right? This was your stupid plan, and I went along with it, but we're sticking to the plan, Dean." Sam sneered.

Dean nodded, "Okay, uh, you leave. I'm gonna stay." Odessa sighed heavily, following after him. Of course she didn't want to stay, she wanted to be inside the Impala with her boys while eating cold pizza as they chatted about whatever was on their mind, just like before.

"Hey, don't turn away—don't turn away from me!" Sam shouted.

Dean merely glimpsed over his shoulder. "Screw you." 

"What? Screw you!" Sam yanked on Dean's shoulder, to which Dean responded with a harsh shove. Odessa was seconds from stepping in when her guard grabbed a hold of her and restrained from pursuing any further.

Dean was snatched by the guard from prior incidents and constrained as well. "All right, hard-case. I see the usual methods ain't gonna work with you." He grabbed Sam by the collar and began leaving before he looked over at where Odessa stood, huffing angrily. "You too, sweetheart." He shoved them towards another guard and had him direct the three of them to wherever this guard pleased. They were eventually tossed into an empty room, one Odessa didn't recognized from the short time she was here. Turning to face the other guard, the 'leader' jerked his chin in the direction of the doorway. "Take off. I want to handle this alone." 

He stepped closer to Dean before chuckling, a wide grin beaming across his face. To say Odessa was confused was an understatement. "Deacon, you are beating the holy hell out of me, man." This was Deacon? The man who'd been kicking Dean's ass? Why didn't just tell her this from the beginning? 

Deacon patted Dean's back. "Sorry, Dean. I thought I was going easy on you." He unlocked both boy's handcuffs, and they groaned as the cuffs clicked off their wrists. "Just trying to make it look real." 

"Yeah, well mission accomplished." Dean responded.

Deacon chuckled. "So? Is it over?" 

Odessa shook her head. "No, it wasn't Moody. We're betting it's some nurse named Glockner. We're not sure, though. We're kind of a little shy on intel." 

The both of them began arguing for the second time in the span of five minutes, and Odessa wanted nothing more than smack the both of them on the back of their heads. As if her words triggered some memory, Deacon's expressions transformed into realization as he dug for something inside his pocket, attempting to catch both of the boy's attention. "Guys, guys!" Both of the immediately stopped, retorting with a simple 'what'. "Your lawyer left this for you." He said, extending his arm and displaying an envelope.

Odessa smiled, grabbing the envelope and hastily tore it open. "Can we just appreciate how much of a badass I am? I mean, seriously, you guys don't thank me enough for half of the crap I do for you." 

Sam nudged her shoulder. "You want to maybe open it up after, you know, you're done patting yourself on the back?" Odessa rolled her eyes and mumbled 'yeah, yeah, yeah' before pushing his arm back. Her eyes widened as her eyes scanned the information. "What? You want to share with the class, Essie?" 

Her eyebrows raised, narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm this close to kicking your ass," She threatened, "Glockner died in the old cellblock right after Moody bit it. Oh, cool, they have an inmate uprising. I didn't think those actually happened. Anyway, she got caught in the middle of it and gave her a severe cerebral edema. So, basically, she got her head bashed in. And now," She turned the paper to face them. "We know where she's buried." 

"All right, then. Let's get you the hell out of here." Deacon said, pivoting to the other side of the room. 

"Don't worry, Deacon. We'll get rid of this thing." 

Deacon yanked off a metal square from the wall, and inside revealed an opening that connected with a passage. "Good, 'cause I want it out of my prison. Boys...and miss, I can't thank you enough for this. I know it was asking a lot, but you still came through. Your daddy raised you right." 

Sam smiled. "Well, we owed you." 

Deacon enwrapped both of them in hugs, then shook Odessa's hand. "Hope to see you again. Just not in here, okay?" They made their way to the opening, but Dean stopped and turned around once again.

"Oh, where do you want it?" 

"What?" Dean grinned like an idiot, and realization dawned upon Deacon's face. "Oh. Just make it look real, son." And with that, Dean chuckled and pummeled his knuckles on the side Deacon's face.

<<>>

Odessa, ankles crossed and perched on the head rest of the Impala's seats, dialed the number she found an hour before. It wasn't that difficult, much to her surprise, and as she pressed the phone against her ear, all she could do was smirk and fiddle with her necklace. The ringing tone filled her ear, and within seconds, he answered. "Hello, Henrickson, I just had to ask," She asked, "How's the search? Without a doubt you've probably already been looking for us." 

She heard him groan boisterously in exasperation on the other side of the line. "I'll get you for this. You can't hide forever. I'll find you." 

"How's Mountainside Cemetery? You just missed us...on the other side of town. Green Valley was great, especially with the lack of crappy FBI agents." 

"I'll find you. I'll hunt you three 'till the end's of the earth. You aren't safe from me. I always win."

Odessa smirked cunningly, and chuckled. "Well, like you said, if there's life, there's hope." She could see the frustration on his face. "Until next time. Bye, Henrickson."

Disregarding his protests and shouting from the other end, she pressed the 'end' button and tossed the phone out the window, grinning from ear to ear.