"Uh…aren't we going to Mae's?" Sam finally asked as they headed in the opposite direction.
Mae's house wasn't that far from Red Lodge and after that job, Sam was more than happy to stay at her house rather than another yet another motel.
They hadn't stayed there enough for him to consider it a second home or even a home but staying there meant more privacy for everyone involved. Her place was comfortable though, oddly homey and welcoming. It didn't seem like the sort of place a hunter would live, save the tools of the trade, reference books, and protective symbols disguised as decor. Maybe it was because she was a woman. Maybe because she had constructed a normal life for a number of years that she'd been able to hide all of that in plain sight.
Sam thought if his brother spent a little time with Mae, he might unwind a bit, maybe even talk about what was bothering him. He needed to talk to someone.
Dean's jaw twitched and then tightened. His fingers gripped the wheel a little harder in the silence. "She won't want to see me." He finally said.
"Why's that?"
His brother's tone sounded accusatory but even Dean wondered if that wasn't just the voice in the back of his head. He hadn't called her since she hung up on him. The idea that he should call her back repeated on a loop in his mind. He could tell her he misspoke, or he didn't know what he was talking about. Or even that two weeks was more than enough time apart. It would have been easy. Pride was only part of what kept him from trying to apologize or explain or do anything more than let the argument fester.
The other, more disturbing part, was about reassuring himself that she wanted the break too. After all, she hadn't really fought it or him on the notion. Sure, she didn't suggest it and she argued with him on it, but she still stayed on her job. She wasn't at Bobby's when they came back. He wasn't the only one who hadn't called over the past two weeks. He needed that reassurance since he was having trouble justifying why he'd do this to himself. He needed the twisted logic to keep her at arm's length. But he missed Mae more than he anticipated.
"We—we're not… we needed some space I guess."
Sam looked at Dean like he was crazy. Dean refused to take his eyes off the road. "You two broke up?"
"You could call it that."
"Did she call it off or did you?"
"No one-It was mutual, okay? And we really don't need to talk about this."
"You've been chasing after her almost as long as we had been looking for dad. And you've been in love with her...forever. You try having a real-ish relationship for a few months and you just get over all that?"
Dean didn't answer right away. "It wasn't working out."
"Oh, because you've had so much experience with relationships."
Dean scowled but he kept his eyes straight forward on the road. "Why do you care? It's not like...it's not like it's any of your business what Mae and I decide to do or not do."
"You've been a pain in the ass for the past two weeks and I know it's not just dad either. Hell, she was the only one who you actually talked to about anything and the only one you'd let help you. Is that it? You worried that she saw too much of the real you?"
"She knows who I am, okay? It just didn't work out. It's not that hard to see why what we do doesn't match up with girlfriend stuff."
Sam sighed. "Do you love her?"
"That's not...that's not what this is about."
"Then what is it about?"
"Why does it matter to you?"
He and Dean had been arguing more than normal so what did one more matter, Sam thought, as he kept prodding his brother. "Because you're not as pissy when you're with her."
"Pissy?"
"Yeah. I know you don't care about the whole...regular person thing but that's not what Mae is about either. So why don't you want to be with someone who you enjoy being with? I don't get how you'd let her go."
"She...I asked her to stay at Bobby's and she wouldn't."
Sam laughed. "Why the hell would you ask her to do that?"
"It's not the craziest thing to ask someone you care about. I wanted her safe and we weren't there to look after her. That demon is still out there, and it's taken enough of the people we love."
"Dude, Mae doesn't need a babysitter. Being at Bobby's doesn't make her safe. And I don't see how she's safe with us than without us. It doesn't seem like you achieved anything as far as her being safe goes and only made the both of you more miserable."
"You think she should have come with us on the last few jobs?"
"Why not? She's a good hunter. I like having her around. And like I said before, you're in a better mood."
It wasn't as if Sam made more sense than Mae had when she made the same points. It all made sense and he knew he was being stubborn. He knew this was yet another sign of how poorly he was dealing with any of it. He even knew fixing it was just as simple as calling Mae. "Yeah well..."
"Relationship are work. Even without all the supernatural stuff, it's hard and it doesn't always just work out because you love each other."
"Do you really think a relationship is really the best thing to do under the circumstances? Listen, she's a great girl but…I don't know, she doesn't deserve to get thrown into all this."
"No offense man, but she's in it. It's not like you're springing this on her. She knows what she's getting into and she's not the sort of woman who's going to stop. Seems like the only difference is you can do this together or apart. For the record, I'd rather have her with us than not."
His jaw loosened. This was something that he could talk about with Sam. Not that he would have a solution that Dean already knew. "I'm not telling her to stop. I mean, if it were you and Jessica and she knew everything about you and still wanted to be with you... would you put her in danger just because you were in love?"
Sam wasn't entirely sure but there was one thing he knew for sure and that's what he told his brother. "If I had her back and if our situation was like you and Mae, I wouldn't turn her away for anything."
If the words got through to his brother, he wasn't sure because after a long silence, rather than a delayed response, Dean only turned the radio back up.
Mae's eyelids felt like they'd been glued together when she tried to open her eyes. Slowly, a little unevenly, she managed to open them, and her vision swam. When she was able to focus, nothing looked familiar. Her head throbbed even without moving. Sitting up was an unsuccessful endeavor as the pain came sharp and swift as she attempted it. Instead, she lay back down to gather her bearings.
All that was there was fog, like cotton mouth in her brain. Pawing one of the nightstands that flanked the bed and then the other, she found a note pad with the motel name and number. It indicated that she was waking up at the Senora Vista Motel in Fredonia, Arizona. Mae scrubbed a hand over her face, trying to put things in order.
Mae recalled going to sleep in Oregon; now she was waking up in Arizona. That wasn't a walk around the park or down the block. Attempting to move, much slower this time, she searched for her phone, relieved to find it on the nightstand too. It was a short-lived feeling as the date told her she was missing 2, almost 3, days. Her last call had been with Sam. So, what had happened between then and now?
Cautiously, she sat up to take survey of the room. There were beer and liquor bottles scattered haphazardly in the kitchen area. While it wasn't unthinkable that she might have gone on a bender, she hardly remembered starting one. Nor did her typical benders end up traversing multiple states. Something was wrong.
After gathering herself, she got out of bed. Her legs were shaky, and she needed a moment to steady herself before she made her way to the bathroom. She was naked, which was another item to add to the list of things that were wrong with this situation. When she was working, she didn't tend to sleep in the buff because she never knew if she'd need to jump into action or flee in the middle of the night. That too set off warnings in her mind.
Her reflection didn't look quite right. It only lasted a second, if that but in that flash, she did not fully recognize the person looking back at her. After a quick blink, she was in fact herself. Then she saw a vision of herself that looked to have done a night or two of heavy drinking. But she didn't feel like she had been drinking for a day, maybe longer. This wasn't a hungover feeling. She felt awful but not properly hungover.
She ran a hand through already messy hair and try as she might, there was nothing there after Oregon. She remembered tracking the kitsune and spending a night in the wood, waiting for it to return to its den. She remembered it returning, in fox form. She remembered tackling it, tussling, and ultimately cutting off its tails. She remembered it dying and turning to ash in her hands. She remembered the walk back to her car, even clearing down the room. She didn't leave that night, however.
There was no hot trail leading to her, no explicit crimes that could be tied to her, so hitting the road wasn't urgent. That particular hotel was a nicer place to stay because it had good water pressure, which after a day in the woods and a physical fight with what was basically a wild animal, she enjoyed that shower as long as possible. She made notes in her journal, cleaned up all of her papers, and returned the motel room to its boring and basic state. She packed her things and loaded the car, ready to leave once she woke up the next morning.
That's what should have happened. But she lost that next morning, and this was where she woke up. There was nothing else in her memory and plenty of other things that seemed to have happened. She examined her body for any cuts, bruises, or signs of anything suggesting what had happened. There were a few healing scratches from the fight with the kitsune, nothing fresh. She remembered getting those though. Because she was feeling grimy and bewildered, she took a quick shower in hopes that she could feel a little more human.
However, after showering and padding out of the bathroom to get dressed, she didn't couldn't find her bags. Or her clothes in the closet. She found clothes but they looked nothing like hers, nothing like her style. Even when she'd had to play a character or role for the job, she didn't tend to wear miniskirts or daisy dukes. She'd wear the leather pants and, in the right circumstances the crop and halter tops. Was she in someone else's room? Had she been shacked up with some chick for the past few days? Again, it wasn't an impossibility but seemed rather odd. Or was this hers and yet another thing she didn't remember. Everything was adding up to an increasingly confusing equation.
"What the hell?"
Even stranger in her opinion was the fact that her things, her standard hunting gear was nowhere to be seen. Now, if she had gone off on a drinking binge, she probably wouldn't have brought a bunch of knives and weapons on a booty call. As she looked around a little more, she realized that she also hadn't put down any protective items or anything else to indicate that she had taken any protective measures. Aside from waking up in the room, finding her phone, keys, and boots, none of this looked like she had brought herself here. It was all out of the ordinary. None of this brought her real answers, only more questions and a nervous panic about what had happened, what would happen next.
Mae tightened the towel around her chest and cautiously looked out the window. The sun was far too bright for her eyes, but she was at least able to confirm that her car was outside the room. So, she likely hadn't been abducted or if she had been, whoever had done it wasn't particularly good at it. That, to her mind, left drinking too much and possibly sex with strangers.
Sucking up her pride, she put on a pair of the leather pants and a halter top that was far too low cut for her liking. But it was better than nothing. At least the thin blade she kept in her boot was still there. Odd how such a small object could give her comfort. She didn't believe someone would attack her on her way to her car, but she finally felt like herself having it with her.
She was guarded and more than a little paranoid as she made her way out of the motel room to the parking lot. Relief washed over her finding her car safe, intact, and damage free. It was still locked. Opening up the hatch, she found her gear bags. Glancing over her shoulder, she lifted the partition that hid the majority of her weapons and things that would arouse suspicion should anyone else find them.
Everything, the sawed off shot guns, pistols, knives, and other blades were there. Her books were there. The charms, crosses, and various pendants were there. She moved the locked box that contained herbs and oils to access a more concealed panel. She pulled the panel open to expose the also locked smuggler's hatch she'd built when she restored the car. With the small key on her key chain, she unlocked it. Inside, she found her journal, the emergency cash she kept on hand and one stash of fake IDs and documents.
Relieved, she sighed audibly and the tension in her lessened, just a bit. Whatever was going on, it didn't seem related to hunting. Or, again, if it was, who or whatever had brought her here wasn't particularly aware of the details of her work. Gathering the things, she thought she might need, she locked everything securely in the car again and all but ran back into her room. There she holed herself up trying to track herself down without leaving the room again. In part, she was worried about what she might find that she did during her missing time. But really, she wanted to see if anyone returned to the room.
Her notes were more or less up to date, dropping off where her last clear memories dropped off. She had been hunting a kitsune. She'd found the kitsune. She had taken care of it. She read the information she had put down on the creature:
Kitsune need freedom. Freedom and respect. Lore indicates that if someone doesn't take care of the fox spirit, they can turn.
She huffed a short sigh out her nose. The job didn't go south. She'd take care of the kitsune, killing it one of the ways that seemed to be the most certain way to put it down for good. Mae spent the rest of the day piecing together what had happened between then and now, with little success. It was dark out. She was tired. She was hungry.
She ordered a pizza to minimize the contact she had with the outside world even though she knew she'd need to leave the room eventually. Her body was stiff, and she realized she hadn't moved in hours as she checked her credit card activity, voice mails, and police blotters. She also realized she hadn't changed from the outfit she had put on to go to her car. When she retrieved the bag with her own clothes and set it on the bed
"You have got to be kidding me." When she reached in to take out a top and jeans, she only pulled out ribbons of fabric. All of her clothing was shredded and unwearable. "What the fuck is this?"
She threw the bag on the floor and took its place on the bed. With a heavy sigh, she rested her elbows on her knees and put her head in her hands. She rubbed her temples. Her breath shuttered. She refused to cry, not while she still had no idea what happened to her. All she knew right then was that she needed help on this.
Three people that came to mind, all with pros and cons, who could help her. She could call Cal; he was probably the best person to track someone down, but hunting wasn't his forte and if this was something supernatural, he wouldn't be much help in putting it down. He had too many qualms about the illegality of the work. There was Bobby; he had the hunting and tracking skills she needed but the thought of telling him even the little bits and pieces that she recalled was painfully excruciating. Then there was Dean. A few weeks ago, a few months ago, she wouldn't have thought twice about it. He would have been the top of her list. But now...
She wanted to respect his request for a break, after all he was going through something. Even so she was pretty sure, he would help her if she needed it. That was the problem with Dean. She'd have to admit that she needed help, that she wasn't safe, which he would take as an indication that she wasn't safe without him. But Dean and Sam were a formidable team; they had the knowledge and experience to be useful and she could trust them. If it weren't for Dean…
Mae picked her phone up off the nightstand and stared at the address book a while longer. After another span of deliberation with herself, she dialed the phone. It rang two times before she hung up. She wasn't going to ask Dean for help, she decided. While it was slightly less embarrassing to call him as opposed to Bobby, it wasn't much better.
Unfortunately for her pride, a few moments later her phone rang. She tried to convince herself it was possible it was someone else, but her heart sank because she knew it was Dean. She didn't pick up, letting it ring to voicemail. It went quiet for a few seconds. Then her phone rang again. She knew the ring couldn't possibly sound more urgent but somehow it did. But again, she ignored it.
After a few minutes, her phone buzzed with a text message. She held her breath, waiting for silence to come again and it was quiet for a little while. Then it rang again. This time, because she knew it wouldn't stop, she picked up. "What?"
"What?" he repeated with a disbelieving tone in his voice. He was a little taken aback but mostly relieved that she picked up, "you called me."
"By mistake." She lied, hanging up on him.
