If you bring forth what is within you,
What you bring forth will save you.
If you do not bring forth what is within you,
What you do not bring forth will destroy you.
-Jesus Christ (Gospel of Thomas)
This was humiliating. The great Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, on his hands and knees on some wealthy man's kitchen floor. The bright yellow rubber gloves were barely stopping the burning heat of his slopping, soapy water. He dropped the scrubbing tool and it hit the tile with a clatter.
Leaning back on his hunches, his verdant eyes scanned the overly large kitchen in disapproval. Who needed a kitchen this size anyway? A single man too! He didn't have children or a family around that he needed to cook for. In the hunter's humble opinion, his employer had a lavished lifestyle that was really unnecessary. Dean lived his life in motels day and night and his life was fine so all this was in this house was simply showing off, in his opinion anyway.
He really shouldn't complain though. Mr Wesson had been more then willing to employ Dean once he began searching for a temporary job. It may not have been natural for the hunter but, while staying in town for a few months to crack a large case, he needed a steady source of income to cover the costs. He couldn't exactly go out hustling if he'd be sticking around for months.
The floor, despite having a generous amount of water pooling on top, was now somewhat clean and the hunter really couldn't take much more.
"Dean!" The hunter looked up at the excited call of his name. A pretty blonde woman stood in her full black uniform in the doorway of the kitchen. She had a chattery nervous energy about her.
It was his second day on the job so Jessica continued to pop in on him every now and again to check everything was okay. She was also working for the elusive Mr Wesson but she had been working in his home for several years already. She'd told him much about working here while doing the brief tour of the ground floor, where Dean would be cleaning. She got to work on the first floor.
"Everything okay?" She smiled, her eyes twinkling. Dean never thought he'd ever meet someone with such a passion for housekeeping... With such a passion for anything.
He remembered how he was just knelt on the black and white tiles with his scrubbing brush discarded. He collected it and the bucket before standing up quickly, despite how his knees protested. It probably seemed as though he'd abandoned his work to daydream instead.
"Yeah, it's great." He replied, unable to mimic her enthusiasm, "Umm, I hate to ask but... When do I get to meet Mr Wesson?"
In the last 48 hours of his employment, he'd not seen the man once, not even in passing. Surely the man came home sometimes? Nobody could work so hard. Dean reminded himself that hunting was in fact his real job so yes, some people really could work that hard. Maybe Wesson had long days? It was even a possibility that this wasn't his primary home.
She seemed to grown slightly grave and sighed, "He's actually upstairs..." Hesitant, she answered, "But he is very ill." Sorrow filled her eyes, it dimmed the sparkle. She clearly did feel for the old guy but she must understand that old age does bad things to a person.
Yesterday, while running the vacuum cleaner over the plush rug in the reception area, Dean had seen Jessica lead two different men upstairs but, at the time, he'd thought nothing of it. He merely assumed they were handy men of sorts. The idea of them being medical professionals seemed more likely now.
"Oh, I'm sorry." He had no idea why he apologized, they were not related or anything but they seemed oddly close. Perhaps there was something more? Dean liked to speculate. At the thought, a shiver fell down his spine; the thought of a young woman going down on some old, wrinkly dude just didn't sit right with him.
"No, don't worry. He'll be right as rain in a week or so. Just needs time to recover." She smiled. She seemed to take hold of her emotions before she glanced up at the clock hung high in the wall, "Hungry?"
He'd started feeling the hunger pangs earlier this morning as his tight budget didn't spare room for diner breakfasts. He really was down to the last few dollars which is why he was here. He nodded, truthfully. He'd already decided that he liked this woman.
Her smile seemed to grow at his confirmation. Turning, she opened the fridge and started pulling out elements of a sandwich. Something felt inherently wrong about going through your boss' fridge... even though it wasn't technically him doing the searching and he hadn't even met the old guy.
"Don't worry. Mr Wesson doesn't mind us having lunch." She reassured as though sensing his uncertainty. I guess she was once in my position too: new and uncomfortable.
Within minutes Jessica had two exquisite sandwiches prepared for them to devour. Thick bread, thick meat and light in the rabbit food department, it was practically perfect in his eyes. She seemed happy with his satisfaction.
She picked lightly at her food with a clearly lighter appetite. Despite being tall for a woman, she was slim.
Jessica seemed more entertained with the idea of conversation rather than food, "So, Dean... You married?"
The hunter shook his head since the sandwich was blocking his pie hole. She nodded but it didn't seem as though she was interested in him in anyway other than friendliness.
"So no girlfriend hanging around? Kids?" As she leant her head, her long hair fell over her shoulder.
He swallowed, "Nope. I've never really gotten around to settling down." Shrugging, he took another bite. He guessed that honestly would be harmless with the nice woman since they weren't risky questions. It would be a change to actually have someone to talk to for once, "Too busy travelling around."
"You travel a lot?" She clapped her hands and leant forward a little. She obviously had a serious sense of wanderlust. He could imagine her eager to spread her wings and travel the world so it seemed kind of odd to find her sat here, at some rich man's kitchen island, with a stable job in a smallish town. She seemed like the adventuring type; the backpacking through Cambodia type. Staying in hostels, having to wear dirty clothes and getting lost: they seemed ingrained into her very being without her having ever left this time zone.
"Yeah, I've always sorta lived on the road. Always found it hard to stay in one place." She seemed pleased with the information even though she didn't push the conversation further. He was happy at that. He didn't want her to start asking awkward questions that he couldn't answer. This girl could never comprehend the monsters under her bed.
Picking up her sandwich, she took a hearty bite and peered around the kitchen as though it was her first time in the room. After a few moments, Dean joined her since it was only his sixth time, or so, in the kitchen. It was very Apple-pie and stereotypical except maybe the apple was made of dollar bills.
"Bobby? Stop laughing." Dean scowled. He rested his head back against the headboard as he listened to the tinny voice cackle over the cellphone line. Rolling his eyes he muttered, "It's not that funny."
"Trust me, son. The idea of any hunter getting a real job is funny. The fact that it's YOU is what makes it so damned hilarious."
Dean peered around his motel room as he tolerated Bobby's frankly rude laughing. Why couldn't he get a proper job? He was perfectly capable, thank you!
"You're the one that suggested it in the first place!" The young man defended his ego.
"I just never expected you to actually go and find one..." The mirth was still carried in his tone.
Folding his free arm across his chest, Dean sighed, "I can do it. It's just some cleaning job to get some money."
The old man's voice turned serious, "Indeed it will get ya some money. It's especially a bonus that you managed to snag one right there in Deadwood. Maybe you can get some local insight but you gotta be alert, son." He lectured.
Rolling his eyes, Dean kicked his heavy boots off his feet and they landed with two loud thumps on the stained carpet, "Careful, you were almost starting to sound impressed for a moment there." He chuckled lightly.
"Just keep a look out, okay Idjit? You might need the job but don't let it distract you from the case. It's important." Dean really didn't need to be reminded of the severity of this one.
Over the last few months, several hunters have discovered evidence which suggested that there was huge levels of covert supernatural activity occurring. From what other people had found, it seemed as though there was a highly organised operation taking place with Deadwood being the very epicentre. Nobody had yet discovered exactly what creatures were involved but they knew that it was big. It branched across the whole country. Hunters from Oregon, Texas and even Alabama had been pulling up weird leads that all appear to connect.
They'd began researching the town a month or so ago before they quickly found that they needed more information. Automatically, Dean volunteered to go undercover and gather more evidence. Meanwhile, Bobby would stay in Sioux Falls as he attempted to contact the hunters that had already passed through the area.
So far, Dean had been in Deadwood for little over a week but hadn't noticed anything unusual about the town. Realising he'd have to stay here for a few weeks at least, he applied for several jobs around the area. Housekeeping for Mr Wesson wasn't exactly on his list of most wanted jobs but they'd replied within a few days offering him a place. Strangely, he didn't even hear from the store or restaurant despite them both still having 'Staff Wanted' flyers in the windows.
He scolded himself, he was lucky to get this job. He needed a steady income to support his hunting over the next few weeks as hustling in one town more than once would be a massive mistake. Cops weren't that stupid.
"I'll let you know if I see anything. Thanks, Bobby." He smiled as he finally hung up from the man. He actually missed the old guy while he hunted alone.
Stomach grumbling, it was officially time for dinner. A small diner was just down the road so he guessed it was time that he tried it out. He would have been more enthusiastic if he'd known that their pie was world famous.