Control - Dean Winchester [1]

20 ; Life Essence & Burning Emblems

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

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

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

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

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

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

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