Dean stretched and squinted against the light. He was used to waking in the dark, only punctuated by light if the curtains in the motel they were at did not block the morning sun well. But Mae's house was a different world all together. It was comfortable...homey. Maybe he could get used to it. Maybe it would make him too soft. He wasn't entirely sure. It was a such an unfamiliar environment that he had genuine idea of how he even fit into it.
Dean rolled over, away from the window and towards Mae. Her side of the bed was empty and cold when he touched his hand to the sheets. At least being at her house meant there was less likelihood that she would have fled. He had a sense there was something off with her. Maybe not off so much as secretive, something she was keeping from him.
It could have been almost anything. There were huge parts of her life he didn't know about. She tended to be forthright if he knew what to ask. Mostly. He was hesitant to get too deep into that because things were going well, all things considered. They were mostly not fighting.
Dean knew better than to over-analyze the connection he had with her. All too often, when they'd allowed themselves to become too analytical their relationship became strained and distant. He was confident that she felt it too, but he had no idea how to be in a relationship. Or whatever this was. Hunting together could work; he'd get better at trusting her, she'd get better at communicating with him.
Dean stretched, rolled out of bed, and headed to the bathroom. After his basic need was taken care of, he dug out clean clothes, dressed and made his way downstairs. Almost at once, his senses were met with unexpected stimuli. The TV was on, and it smelled like coffee. And something else he couldn't quite place.
Sam was still asleep on the sofa, but several items had been moved around. It was unclear if it was Mae or Sam. Maybe he and Mae could rouse him enough to move him to a more comfortable room until he was fully back with them. Otherwise, it seemed like he was fine there and hopefully his energy would start returning.
In the kitchen, he found a half drunk mug of black coffee on the island. It was still warm. Mae wasn't there but he didn't know her to be a woman to abandon even bad coffee. He wasn't worried, yet. Dean still took the time to grab a cup so he could enjoy some quality coffee as he searched her out.
Her house wasn't huge, but he wasn't wholly familiar with the layout. He was always surprised to see Mae's domestic side; the kitchen was cozy and decorated in a mountain cabin style. There knickknacks interspersed on set of open shelves with cookbooks and what appeared to be decorative bowls. The small kitchen was full of charm, but a layer of dust gathered on the shelf with the cookbook collection on the shelf and there were no signs that anyone had used them in recent memory.
Thinking about that left him conflicted. It must have been different while her husband was alive. They must have been happy. He thought he knew Mae pretty well and he still couldn't picture her marrying anyone let alone settling down. Even if she had ultimately sabotaged it, there must have been something real there for her to move to the middle of nowhere with someone, to presumably cook meals together, go on vacations, do all those regular people things.
Now, her home seems less lived in. Not that he was one to judge. He couldn't recall the last place he really lived in for more than a week or two. There was a small desk in the corner, slightly lower than the counters with a small chair tucked underneath. It seemed to serve as a catch all for mail and papers. Some of what was on there looked like bills, addressed to her married name. Her name didn't throw him off, but this was the first time he'd seen her address and she must have been keeping that quiet because if he knew she lived on Daisy Dean Road, he would have teased her. The road signs weren't particularly memorable, and he'd never been focused much on it before.
The papers on the other hand were a hodgepodge of newspaper articles, print outs and seemingly random notes in that weird shorthand of hers. He reminded himself that he needed to have her translate it to him and maybe teach him. He knew he needed to do less snooping and more searching.
She wasn't in the main floor bathroom or the room behind the first mystery door. That room was likely an office, although it was hard to tell because it was filled with boxes and a large armoire filled with linens. The window was covered with drapes.
The second door led to a set of stairs, which he took down. He thought it would be a similar to the room on the main floor, dark, a bit stuffy, and full of junk. But he found it to be as light as the upstairs, a walkout basement as it were. There was also another large sofa in a rich, deep green hue, facing a TV. Behind the sofa was a treadmill that looked out the large picture window to the stretch of green up to the out cropping of trees behind the house.
On the wall opposite the TV was also a rather large painting of an incredibly flexible and nude woman draped over a chaise in what Dean was sure would be called an artful pose. She was covered by a black gauzy material which hid most of the fun bit and her face was angled in a way that obscured her face. Despite the liberties the painter may have taken and the relative anonymity of the woman, he was certain it was Mae. There was something about the way the woman in the painting held her limbs and arched her body that was undeniably Mae.
Regardless of the woman's identity, he couldn't have predicted the painting in her house. To the left of the stairs was a kitchenette, complete with a mini fridge, sink, and microwave. In the cabinet, there was a small collection of plates and glasses. The drawers included a flatware set. Opposite the kitchen was another bathroom with a shower. Walking past the kitchenette and bathroom, there was another somehow imposing door. It had two deadbolt locks on it and the knob was also lock. He was unsure what she would keep behind there or if looked this way when she was pretending to be a regular girl.
He stepped out of the cooking area. The last door in the basement area led to a regular bedroom with a queen sized bed, dresser, and nightstand. French doors would lead outside and were flanked by thick drapes, which were open now. This room seemed almost normal, if it weren't for the thick line of salt in front of the doors and what appear to be a length of iron. Dean chuckled at that.
He discovered plenty of weird and interesting things, but he hadn't found Mae, which was now concerning. There were only so many places she could be and if she wasn't in the house, did she leave of her own volition or had something much worse happened?
~Earlier~
Thin fingers of light sliced through the cloudy sky, casting the room in the barest hints of soft silver grey light. Mae hadn't closed the drapes the night before. There wasn't anyone nearby who would have or could have seen in to the room so it didn't matter. She turned her head to the side, squinting a bit to read the clock. It was clearly early but the confirmation from the numbers helped confirm that she they didn't get nearly the amount of sleep she would have liked.
Not that she didn't enjoy losing sleep with Dean. To her surprise, he was still sleeping next to her. She was sure he would have gone downstairs at some point to check on his brother. Maybe he had but he'd come back to her. Perhaps he felt Sam was safe enough downstairs. Maybe he was just that tired or comfortable. The thought on him being comfortable in a space that was clearly just hers, with the risk of too many memories he wasn't a part of, left her with a warmth in her belly that had nothing to do with arousal.
She still found it comforting to sleep next to him. There was something about being in his presence that was more reassuring than with anyone else. She had never met anyone, her late husband included, who she was so attracted to who also made her feel secure and at ease.
Everything was quiet and calm. The only sound was their breathing and Mae let herself watch him sleep. Her heart tripped, just for a moment. He was painfully handsome. Risking waking him up, she reached over to brush her long fingers over his brown hair. He didn't stir. This was not what she had planned to do with him again.
Whatever this was, however, it could be classified, felt like they were getting away with something. It felt dangerous because of the reality of the work they did. Perhaps if they were both normal, boring people, they could more easily enjoy all of the feelings and impulses they had together, maybe passion would burn them out.
That feeling and thought she could embrace. The other far more dangerous feeling was the understanding of just how much she loved him. In a different time, it wouldn't be a question. It wouldn't cause her angst. She wouldn't question it or herself. She would have enjoyed it.
But a threat of insecurity was woven between them now and while she knew it wasn't Dean's intention and it wasn't entirely what Dean wanted, Mae knew it would be crushing for him to end things again. Any of the walls she once had to keep him at bay had been destroyed. She couldn't even point to when or how it happened, only that she was foolishly in love with him all over again.
She didn't tell him that, not recently anyway. There wasn't a point because she thought he felt the same way, had the same fear. For now, however, they were safe in a little bubble where nothing had to come between them, for a day or two anyway.
Quietly, she slipped out of bed and pulled on the hasty stripped shirt and sweatpants from the night before. As she made her way to the living room, she paused, not expecting to hear noise. At first it worried her until she placed it as the TV. She took it as a positive sign that Sam woke at some point and was coherent enough to try to watch something.
In fact, when she got to the living room, she found Sam had moved his pillow to the other end of the sofa and drank most of the water she'd set out. She smiled a bit, glad to see that he was possibly on the mend. This whole things might actually turn out okay, for a job that not too long ago seemed like it might be her last.
She didn't want to disturb Sam, so she tried to keep it down as she moved to and through the kitchen. She put on a pot of coffee, larger than normal as she was sure Dean would go through half at least once he was up. Maybe she would be able to go to the shop in town, she thought, as she looked at the quite empty fridge. There was plenty of frozen food, but milk, eggs, and bread would be nice.
The real question was how the kitsune would react to any attempts they might make to leave. That was something they had not worked out in an agreement. Mae didn't have proof but outside of possessing someone, it seemed like it would be very difficult for the creature to leave the property. Right now, there weren't a lot of people it could possess as it didn't seem to be able to fully take control of her, wouldn't or couldn't possess Dean. Leaving just Sam.
"Dammit. Cal." Okay, she thought, that was a loose end she hadn't totally considered, and she said a silent prayer that she hadn't loosed the kitsune on an innocent bystander.
From the kitchen, you could see the smaller cabin across the property but perhaps only if you knew what you were looking for. At night, you could see it better if the back porch light was on. Otherwise, it was smallish brown square in the sea of green and gray. The cabin was the original homestead, upgraded a bit over the years with electricity, solar panels, indoor plumbing, and satellite internet but still rustic enough for the hermit her father in law had become over the years.
She grabbed the home phone and dialed as she shifted around the kitchen, grabbing a pot and some rice from the cupboard. As the phone kept ringing a worried frown grew on her face. The man didn't use an answering machine so after enough rings to either confirm he wasn't there or was incapacitated. She decided to call his rarely used cell phone before she'd investigate the cabin. She dialed that number and set the rice to cook. Finally, on the ninth ring, an old, raspy voice picked up the phone. "Yeah?"
"Hey? It's Mae," she said, relieved.
"Mae? What are you doin' callin' me so early?"
"Sorry, Cal. We...I got home last night and forgot to call to let you know I was home, just in case you saw the lights on. So, I just wanted to check in. Has everything been okay over there?"
"Yeah, everything's been fine. But I'm on the annual hunting trip with the boys so I'm not home"
She closed her eyes, relieved that she didn't need to worry about him and feeling just a bit stupid for not recalling the trip he'd gone on for decades now. "Right. I guess I just lost track of the date. You'll be gone a few more days then, yeah?"
"Why you askin'?" he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.
"Just curious, I guess," she said, keeping the worry out of her tone. "Don't worry about it. Give me a ring when you're heading back though."
"Sure. If something is wrong, I can come back early."
"No need, everything is fine." She lied, hoping that she would have this dealt with and he'd be none the wiser. "I'll be home a few days too and will let you know before I hit the road again."
"Great. Anything else?"
"Nope. Have a good time. We'll talk soon."
Mae hung up the phone and let out a sigh of relief. Walking back to the kitchen counter, she leaned against it and ran a hand through her hair. At least that was one thing that broke her way. She didn't need to be concerned about giving the kitsune one more victim.
But now, she knew she was about to do something potentially stupid. Or potentially brilliant. Either way, she wanted to get this done before Dean woke and tried to stop her. Mae grabbed the pot of coffee and poured herself a cup, taking a sip as she thought about their next move. They couldn't just wait for the kitsune to make a move, they needed to be proactive.
Dean wouldn't be happy with her for doing this in the first place but especially without him. She was quite aware that if she were wrong about the kitsune, that this was perhaps the dumbest thing she could do, alone or with someone else backing her up. If she was right however, she thought this was an act that could show the kitsune she wasn't crossing it or their pact.
She sipped on her coffee until the rice was done and she dished it up in a small bowl. Concern over this idea hadn't left her entirely. She knew that if it the kitsune would manifest in a physical form, she could kill it. It was a big if of course. All the same, she made sure she had her knife ready, in addition to the bowl of rice. She felt like she was sneaking out of her own house as she walked softly to the door, opening and closing it as smoothly as she could. She walked along the stepping stone path, passed the lightly landscaped area, towards the stand of trees that lead west to the Shields River, situated about 300 yards past the house.
If asked, Mae couldn't explain why she thought that's where the creature was. The closest she could come to an explanation was that she sensed it, but she didn't know if that was actually true yet. She wasn't even sure if in its fox form or non-corporeal form it could understand her, but she announced herself as she neared the trees. "Hey, um, I don't know what your name is, if you have one but, I have rice. For you. To eat. I don't have tofu but maybe you'll like this?"
She stood in the field, feeling rather ridiculous holding a bowl of cooling rice and a knife, talking apparently to no one. Still, she set the bowl down, knowing if the kitsune had left or was anywhere else, she was likely just leaving a nice meal for some rodent or insects.
"Okay well, it's here and... I'm going to go so enjoy, I guess?
Crouched in the field, waiting, she look around to see if anything changed. It was quiet as the sun came up, no unusual sounds or anything yet. She stayed that way for several minutes before she stood, disappointed that there didn't appear to be any immediate results. She wasn't certain what she was expecting or if this offering was even something it would want.
Just as she turned to head back to the house, she heard a rustling behind her. Her heart racing, Mae slowly turned around, her hand gripping the knife handle tightly. It was the kitsune.
It stood before her in its fox form, its eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Mae felt a shiver run down her spine at the sight of the creature, but she forced herself to stay calm. She didn't want to spook it. Her grip on the knife, eased a bit and she moved her arm, so it was behind her back
"Hey there," she said softly, taking a step forward. "I brought you some rice. Do you want to try it?"
It sniffed at the bowl and while it didn't recoil the fox took a step back. What it meant by the movement, she didn't entirely know but she moved closer slowly. It took a smaller step back. Mae crouched again, reaching down to the bowl and took a small portion of the rice between her fingers and ate it. She showed her empty hand and made sure it was clear she swallowed.
Mae steadied herself as it moved closer, slowly, even though she wanted to jump back. She didn't want to make any sudden moves to scare the fox or make it think that she might use the knife. This wasn't a trap. She was giving the food genuinely, in hopes that the kitsune would trust them and leave them alone.
Again, it sniffed and then licked the rice. It took a small bite, considering the offering and it gnashed on the small grains. Mae felt a distinct need to clarify that this was the best she could do with the resources she had on hand. Instead, she stayed quiet. Seemingly satisfied, the fox bent it's head back down but rather than take another bite, it took the entire bowl and dashed back into the trees.
"Hey, that's...my bowl." She trailed off, realizing it either couldn't hear her or didn't care or perhaps thought it was funny to steal it. She really had no idea what it was thinking. At least it appeared to accept the offering and perhaps that would keep it from needing to feed off one of them for energy.
