Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! :D

Well, Odette's finally on her way! Things are getting kicked into motion

So, just FYI, I base my writing on my own personal experience and preferences. For example, the books mentioned are all my favorites, as well as Odette's hobbies. ;) You'll see later on more allusions to my own personality.

Believe it or not, the definitions in this chapter as described by Odette (and Sam) are very real.

To quote Dean: 'It sounds made up, I know.'

It really isn't, though. :P

On with it, shall we?

(Odette PoV)

CHAPTER NINE- FIGHT TEST

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," I told him, sliding into the backseat.

He sat in front of the steering wheel, not letting it go. "But-"

I shut my eyes, sinking into the upholstery. "Please," I whispered. "Don't ask me to explain. I can't." My voice distorted around the word. I was close to breaking point.

He opened his mouth again. The hole in my chest was waiting, dulled now by a year's worth of effort, but waiting, now, to rip itself wide open again.

"Dean." Castiel's voice startled me. He'd been silent throughout our conversation. "Leave her alone."

Something in his tone made Dean grumble a "Fine."

I risked opening my eyes. Castiel was sitting in the back, as far as the seat would allow. I tried not to let that get to me. Angels probably weren't big on cars.

Sam sat shotgun, peeking at my expression. "Don't worry, Odette. My brother," he fixed Dean with an angry look, "Will mind his own business."

Dean cleared his throat. "Sorry, Odette."

"It's all right, Dean. I probably would have pressed for details if I were you."

"Anyway, as long as I'm driving, there are certain rules to be followed."

Sam groaned. "Dean, please. Quit being such a kid."

"Shut up, Sammy."

"It's Sam."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

My lips twitched. My mood lifted a bit. Not by much, but it was a start.

"Anyway, kid, rules are simple. When I drive, nobody complains about my music. Don't like it, then get your own. You wanna put your feet up, I won't stop you, but you take your shoes off. I don't want a speck of mud on my baby, you hear me?"

"I hear you." I smiled at him.

"God, Dean, why don't you just write it on a piece of paper and stick it on the hood or something?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"That's not a bad idea, actually, Dean. Sam's suggestion is very helpful. It would get the point across to anybody who's in your 'baby'." Castiel looked innocently at Dean.

This time I couldn't help it. A small, hastily stifled chuckle escaped my lips.

Sam looked pleased, for some reason. Dean turned his head to glare at Castiel. "Angel. Shut up."

Castiel looked affronted. "I was only trying to help. I will not add my advice if it offends you."

He lapsed into silence. Oddly, I wanted to help him. I searched for a way, but couldn't find one. I was strangely dissatisfied.

"Oh, let's just get out of here." Dean revved the engine, and shot out onto Elm Street.

I looked one last time at my house, now so cold and empty, at the place I'd lived for the past year.

Then I realized something. It hit me hard, and I finally understood.

I'd left home already. I missed it. It gnawed at my heart, the longing to go, go back, the tugging sensation that never really went away, even numbed as it was by months of practice. And home wasn't Maine.

Sam was looking at me now. "Is it hard? What you're leaving from?"

I turned my eyes to his. "Nothing to leave behind."

And it was the truth.

Dean coughed. "All right. I found us a hunt up in Jericho, California. Took a look in Dad's journal, he'd marked this one. Even a message. Listen to it."

He brought out a small phone. A low, gravelly voice that sounded a lot like Dean's could be heard.

"Dean, go to Jericho, Cali. Bunch of men disappearing off the same highway for ten years now. Get there." But it was the snarling, rasping noise in the background that had my attention.

I focused on it, trying to decipher the words. It was a woman's voice that much was clear.

I couldn't believe it. "That's…. EVP."

Dean gave me a surprised look. "How'd you know that?"

"I...uh read about it somewhere. Most people think it's auditory paraidolia."

"Para- what?" Dean sounded confused.

"Auditory paraidolia is when the brain incorrectly interprets random patterns as being familiar patterns. In the case of EVP, a person would think he was hearing a human voice."

"It's also closely linked to apophenia which is-"

Dean cut me off. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. You wanna get your geek on, you do it with Sam. He's the Joe College, not me. I didn't get one word of what you were saying, and frankly I don't want to. You and Sam are gonna get along just fine, I can tell."

Sam huffed. "I have heard of that. Apophenia is termed as the spontaneous finding of connections or meanings in things-"

"That are random, unconnected or meaningless." I finished for him, smiling.

He laughed. "So what do you like doing, Odette?"

"I love reading, writing, listening to music. Stuff like that."

"So you're into arts, then?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"So, what's the latest book you've read?"

"Um, War and Peace."

The car jerked. Dean was spluttering and so was Sam.

"Did you just say you read War and Peace, kid?" Dean looked like he was about to have an embolism.

"Yes."

"The book is bloody huge. It gives me a headache just looking at it! You read it for fun?" Dean looked absolutely scandalized.

"Yeah."

"Did you like it?" Sam resumed our conversation.

"Yup. Have you read it?"

"Bits and pieces, yes."

The car jerked again. Sam ignored it. "What did you like best about it?"

"I think it's the way Tolstoy wrote it. How he portrays a characters point of view- it's so swift, so seamless. The visual detail is almost cinematic, you know, the way he can give dramatic interest to battles or ballrooms or… or anything, really."

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Sam grinned at me. "So if you've read War and Peace, you must have read Anna Karenina."

I nodded. "It's beautiful. One of my favorite books of all time."

"Mine too. What are your other favorites?"

"It's hard to say, really. I think maybe To Kill A Mockingbird, Animal Farm, War and Peace, Lord of The Rings, Anne of Green Gables, Oliver Twist and David Copperfield."

"That's a long list." Sam blinked.

"I know." I was surprised. It was very easy to talk to Sam.

"Why?"

"Why what?" I was the one who was confused, now.

Sam angled his head so it was turned in my direction. "I mean, you're clearly intelligent. Given the kind of books you read, the way you speak, you would've had a bright future. Why did you give all that up to come with us?

I sobered up. Both Dean and even Castiel were looking at me now.

I took a deep breath, choosing my answer carefully. "Maine wasn't home. I've left my real home far behind me, and it's somewhere I can never go back to. The kind of life I was living here... it was empty, artificial, pre-programmed. I was living like a robot. Perfect grades, perfect house, perfect school, and perfect friends. Everything was perfect. I should've been happy, but I wasn't. I was... like a machine. Numb. Living in a daze. I tried to deny it. I only realized that yesterday. It was the apple pie life. The only problem was that I wasn't enjoying it."

"Believe me, it was still hard, throwing it all away, everything I'd ever known and worked for. It was part of why I'm going with you, but the real reason is that I didn't want somebody's blood on my hands. My teachers, my friends, everyone I know back in Maine were in danger because of me. Because they knew me, however distantly. I couldn't be that selfish, to have somebody's life in danger just because I was too cowardly to face the truth. I couldn't stand the guilt if something happened to someone I care about because of me."

Not again, the voice in my head whispered traitorously.

I shook away the thought. "I'm only a kid. This is the best I can do."

"You're not just a kid. Not many would have the courage to do what you did." Dean surprised me.

"I wouldn't call it courage, considering I'm grasping at a chance to save my life."

"Jeez, Odette, how did you get any sleep last night?" Sam was looking at me sympathetically.

I don't deserve your sympathy, my mind was screaming at him. If only you knew...

"I didn't," I mumbled. "I was too busy... deciding."

I hurriedly turned to Castiel. He still intimidated me with his severity; his beauty only an angel could possess- perfect, timeless, remote.

"What about you, Castiel? What do you like doing?"

He seemed surprised that I was talking to him. "I... don't have many interests, I suppose. I do my duty that is all. But... I do love flying. It's absolutely exhilarating, soaring above all of humanity, so far up in the sky, where it's only you and the quiet rustle of your wings, floating in the air, no force of gravity upon you... it's indescribable."

I breathed out, the way he put it, I could almost visualize it, Castiel flying in the night sky, fierce and unstoppable.

"Hey, Odette," I jerked slightly.

"Yeah, Sam?"

"Why don't you rest? You must be tired out after yesterday. It's only 7:00 I know, but you need to catch up on your sleep."

"Shoes off," Dean reminded me.

"Of course, Dean," I smiled at him. "I'll sleep in a bit, Sam, I am tired, but I'd like to stay up for some time."

I looked tentatively at Castiel, who seemed slightly less forbidding than before and curled up against the window sill, kicking off my shoes as I watched the outskirts of Maine streak by, and despite myself, I drifted off to sleep.