Hot. Way too hot. All windows open, fan spinning full speed, sheets pulled off, no pants, cursing out her uncles for not getting an A.C., hot. There's an echo of vehicles rumbling on the highway. Mai spreads out on the bed contemplating ways to cool off. She seriously considers walking down to the local motel and booking a room for the night. At least it has air conditioning of some sort. A massive heatwave is rolling over the east this week. She can't remember having experienced an August so excruciatingly warm before. While she isn't particularly sweaty tonight, she is wildly uncomfortable. It's a stuffy heat; like being trapped in the Impala on the roof of a parking garage with all the windows rolled up.
It's a quarter to two in the morning, but she's not tired in the slightest. She whips her feet off the bed, pulls on a thin pair of shorts, and pads down to the kitchen. A wall of cold air hits her as she opens the freezer. Sticking her head inside, she finds some momentary relief. If her uncles were home Sam would scold her about leaving the door open and wasting the electricity; Dean would probably have had his head in the freezer before she got there.
Dean… would try to be friendly again…
Dean is trying. Mai sees that he's trying. But the damage is done. She can forgive him, but it will never be the same. A few days after their talk he offered to take her out for the day, have some time together without Sam. She found an excuse to stay home. He tries to make conversation at breakfast, but she eats quickly and leaves. Her car hasn't been touched since she has no interest in being trapped in the barn with her uncle. He wants to make this up to her; he offers to be here more often. He was going to turn down a job, but Mai insisted that Sam and Dean go. Dean's guilt is suffocating her. She needs alone time. She tells them not to worry about her, that they can take their time. She avoids looking at the hurt in Dean's stony expression.
I told him I didn't want anything from him. That wasn't a lie.
Mai sighs, watching her cold breath in the moonlight. It's time to remove her head from the freezer. She grabs a few ice cubes and closes the door. The cubes clank in a glass and begin to melt as she fills it with water. In one long chug she drinks the entire glass. It's refreshing but doesn't cut through the heat. There's a soft knock on the door.
Mai steps to the side of the front window. She's not expecting anyone. Leaning over the sink, she can't see any cars in the drive or anyone on the porch. Front door visitors can't be seen from this angle though. Ducking down she crawls over to the knife drawer and grabs a cleaver from within.
Better safe than sorry.
With a few awkward movements, she waddles her way to the door. Pulling back the sheers on the gull windows, she attempts to snatch a glimpse of her mystery guest. A tall dark figure rapes his knuckles against the door again, a little louder this time. There's a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and in the dim moonlight glow she can make out his shoes are Converse. It's Jett. She stands up, sets the cleaver on the entrance table, and pulls the door open.
"Miss Mai…" there's a tone of relief in his voice. He smiles down at her, wide and tired.
Wordlessly she beckons him into the living room and begins switching on a lamp, "How have you been?" she asks.
His duffle flops to the ground, his ratty shoes with it. "I'm doing alright." He tells her, "been hitchhiking."
"Sounds… hazardous." She frowns.
"On the contrary, people that pick up a guy like me, tend to be friendly and kind."
Mai takes a seat and pulls at Jett down by the sleeve, "You hungry? Want anything to eat?" She offers.
"I'm okay."
Jett rests his arms along the top of the couch. Mai tucks her feet under herself and leans against the back. It's late; she's fairly tired. Lounging on the couch without conversation is making it all too easy to fall asleep right there. Her eyes feel heavy and looking over at Jett she can tell he's worn from his travels.
"Do you want to get to bed? I can make up the room for you." Mai suggests
"No, no." he shakes his head, "although… you're tired aren't you? Did I wake you up, or?"
"No, I was up; it's fine."
"Do you want to go to bed?"
"I can stay up."
Jett looks her in the eyes for a moment. Squirming under his gaze, she feels herself flush. "What?" she smiles nervously.
"Is… how are… how are you're nightmares?" Jett doesn't bother to cloud the concern on his face. Mai looks down at the floor. All those nights spent in bed with Jett flood her memory.
Stupid little dreams had you all freaked out…
"They are better- gone actually." She says embarrassedly, "I… kinda made peace with the issue."
"Oh." He huffs, "That's good. You were really… shaken up. Before."
"I'm better now." She smiles feebly and thinks of another topic.
Jett drops his own gaze to the floor, "How are the uncles?"
Mai tosses him a sideways glance. "Why do you say it like that?"
"Like what?" He says coyly, turning towards her.
"Like-" she decides to drop it, "They are fine I guess. Out. Hunting." Mai runs her fingers up and down the piping of the couch cushion; it's suede.
"So you talked to them?"
Mai's chest catches, "To whom?"
"You're family?" His voice is apprehensive, awaiting her reaction.
She stops smoothing out the couch fabric and folds her hands on her lap. Her brain tells her to veer the conversation elsewhere, but her gut wants to talk. She knows she shouldn't; he doesn't need to hear about Dean. If she's going to talk to anyone it should be Bobby or Sam, but… Jett is here and Jett is gentle and Jett actually seems interested. She trusts Jett; she trusts him with her thoughts. He's proven himself a secure confidant.
"My uncle Dean and I talked. We talked about the recent… er well, the distance that's accumulated these past years. Things got kinda heated and we were yelling at each other again… but, he just-" She sighs and turns her head back to Jett; his blue eyes so intent on her.
She frowns, "He didn't know. Dean didn't even realize that the way he left sucked. And he was all upset with me for not being able to go back to 'normal'- which granted, Sam was constantly pressuring him to get us back to 'normal' or whatever, but… Seriously, he had the audacity to think that we could just go back to the way things were. We're not the same people any more. I'm not a scared little twelve-year-old, I'm… I'm-"
"Stronger?" Jett interjects.
"Pissed." She states flatly. There's an awkward lull as they stare at each other. Mai clears her throat and looks back down at the floor. "Anyway… He did realize where it went sour. But now…" she fades thoughtfully, a scowl on her face.
"Now what?" Jett asks dipping his head to catch her eye.
She sighs, ignoring his face so close to hers, "He's trying to be better. I see that he's trying to be better and softer and get past it, but I'm just done. I told him I didn't want anything from him and I meant it." She huffs a snide laugh, "He wanted to take a break and be home again. I overheard him talking to my other uncle about it; saying how he's 'tired', that he's 'been on the road too long' or some crap like that. I know he loves it out there. He told me once it's the only thing he feels good at. Frankly, I don't really want him here.
"When he was home last week he drove me crazy, always in my way and trying to be close again. That's not how this works. He can't just leave me for a year, come back without really fixing anything, then act like a kicked puppy when he realizes how much he fucked up. I don't want him hating himself and being pathetic all day. I don't need to feel guilty because I finally spoke my mind to him; I don't need to feel guilty for breaking him when this is all a direct result of Dean breaking me!"
Her pinky goes numb from squeezing her hands together so tightly. Mai lets go and watched her fingers flush pink as blood runs back in. They tingle. "I told him he had to go hunt. I couldn't have him here… not for a while anyway."
She waits for Jett to say something, hoping that she hadn't spewed too much. He's awfully quiet and still as he watches her thoughtfully.
Oh god. I over did it. He wasn't interested in my crap. Short answers, Mai. You should have kept answers about personal shit short. 'Have you talked to your family?' 'Yes, Jett I have. We are fine. Thank you for asking'. I'm going to scare him off…
"You shouldn't feel guilty." He says snapping her out of her thoughts. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"He's still my family…" She sighs.
Jett rubs his thumb over her wrist. She didn't realize he had grasped her hand, but she didn't want to let go. Every brush of his fingers gave Mai goosebumps. "Family is shit." He says looking down at their intertwined hands. Mai absentmindedly nods in response.
"You're hair's getting long." She mumbles stupidly. His hair had grown shaggy and longer and now falls in his eyes. It's immature; makes him look younger, too young. Childlike.
With his free hand, he pushes the hair up out of his face, "Haven't had time to cut it."
"We could get it trimmed while you're here," she thinks for a moment, "I mean, how long you think you'll stay?"
"How long can I stay?" He asks
Mai doesn't know. She can't be sure of how long they will have the place to themselves. After her family barged in last time she's unsure of everything. She shrugs.
"How long do you want me here?" He asks her running his thumb across her knuckles.
Mai blushes and shrugs again.
Forever. I'd trade Dean for you. Mai's cheeks burn at the thought.
Jett purses his lips and shifts his gaze into the empty fireplace. "We can figure that out in the morning." He says softly, "We can make plans tomorrow. We can make up beds tomorrow…" his voice grows softer and sleepier. Mai's eyes feel heavier than they had been before. The air is hot, the room is dim, and Jett's voice continues to mutter tomorrow's plans. She watches as he begins to drift off, still slowly exploring the skin of her palm.
Exhaustion takes Mai little by little. One moment she's listening to Jett, next she's closing her eyes and promising herself to open them again in five minutes. A while later she feels herself being pulled into him, their hands still together, warmth and goosebumps spreading over her chest.
She gently pulls her hand out of his not wanting to wake him. The cool blue of dawn's light is cast over his sharp features and fair skin. Gingerly, she brushes a bit of dark hair out of his face. His skin is soft; soft like rose petals. His hands were just as soft. She didn't know guys could have skin that smooth. Her uncles have callused and worked hands, with dirt under their nails and hard steady palms. Jett has supple skin with clean nails and a silky touch; its softness spreads all over his body. Mai decided not to tell him how nice she thinks his skin is.
That's kinda creepy and possibly embarrassing.
She slips away into the kitchen. She leans over the sink, watching the sun come up through the trees. The clearing out front is full of shadows trying to stay in the night as long as possible, but the orange sky above promises to cast them away. It's still hot and bound to get hotter as the sun comes up. A few minutes go by and the world is illuminated; Mai barely has time to take it all in.
"What are we looking at?" a sleepy voice whispers in her ear.
Her heart jumps, "Nothing." She whispers back.
Jett digs in the cupboard for the can of coffee and a couple of mugs. Mai watches him pour out the scoops and measure the water. She likes him here. He seems to fit as if he's always been in her kitchen making coffee. Jett stands in front of the pot, a mug in one hand, the other rubbing his neck. His face is stubbled, head tilted forward, eyes just barely open.
"Did I wake you?" she asks in a hushed tone.
He shakes his head, obviously still waking up. Wordlessly, he hands her the other mug he had pulled out. They stand side by side wait for the beep, each with a small grin the other doesn't see.
The basement is damp and cool; the coolest spot in the house during this heat wave. Mai sorts through laundry separating lights from darks. Jett sits on a table and attempts to fold a basket of clean clothes. The washing machine hums in its spin cycle and Mai sings a flaming starfish tune under her breath.
"Last time I was down here I you broke my nose." Jett recalls.
She glances over to the heavy iron door at the bottom of the steps and hums in acknowledgement. A brown hoodie gets tossed into the pile of darks.
"What is that thing?" He asks, "Some sort of nuclear bomb shelter?"
Mai chuckles, "It's a panic room." She straightens up and faces the door, "impervious to everything except… well no, it probably could withstand a nuclear bomb. We call it the Fox Hole."
"All the best forts have cool names." He nods, "So what's in it? Like sea rations and salt bags?"
"Pretty much."
"How often have you used it?"
Mai shrugs, "A couple times."
She walks over to Jett's table and begins folding a pair of pants. He scoots back farther on the tabletop so that his back can rest against the wall. Mai's phone buzzes a few times on the tabletop. Jett passes it to her as she sets down the pants.
"Hello? … Oh hi Clark. …Um, no… well yeah they are out. …Ah yeah you talked to them already. …Picking up a book? …Actually, where are you? …Texas… How about I scan the pages and email them to you? That's a hell'a lot faster than you taking a trip up this way. …Yeah, no it's… it's no problem. …Stay safe Clark. Bye." She ends the call.
Jett chuckles lightly with his arms crossed over his torso.
"What?" she questions feeling slightly self-conscious about his laughter.
"You're just… such a hunter." He says.
"I thought you didn't want to talk about hunting while you are here." She tests; continuing to sort socks. She hopes he will drop the subject. "I've never been on a hunt in my life." She says adamantly
Jett slides off the table, "Mai, I've seen you do some intense research for Bobby Singer. And you run this like Underground Railroad for your hunters you know, bringing them in and feeding them, helping them out on cases, it's some big stuff that you do for the community."
"Community?" she laughs, "We don't have any real community. It's a free for all out there. There's no order."
"You could be the order Mai."
She rolls her eyes, "I don't want to be the order. I'm not a hunter; I'm not part of that."
"Why?"
She frowns and begins folding tee shirts. She won't answer him.
"I mean… don't you see the good you're already doing for us?"
"'Us'?" Mai echoes, "I thought you were going to get out."
He leans back against the table sliding one hand in his pocket, the other idly rubbing his still unshaven face. "You said it yourself…" he states tentatively, "we never really get out."
She stops her work; the realization hitting her. "Oh."
"We could keep this going. You're underground railroad thing… give hunting some order"
"Maintaining order in this field is like herding cats." She mutters, brushing off his words. "Too many people work alone."
"Well that's stupid." He retorts
She snaps her head up to him, "Don't you work alone? Aren't you on some personal vendetta like the rest of them?" He doesn't answer, which is answer enough. "Order in a world of chaos is a pipe dream, Jett. Hunters are broken down and reckless shells of people who are hell bent on revenge or yearning for the self-satisfaction of saving someone no matter what the cost. Most of these people are barely functioning alcoholics and they have all see too much of this world to every think straight anymore… and… and-"
"It doesn't have to be like that though! We're a whole new generation of hunters Mai." He steps toward her, "We don't have to be like our predecessors."
"How do you propose we change?"
"We can train people. Build a stronger community, build a team?" he holds his hands on her shoulders giving her an enthusiastic shake, "Imagine how efficient hunting could be if we weren't all on our own? We could have people like you stay at base and research and assign cases and then the hunters go out into the field, we could keep case records an-"
She shake her head, "You're plan is to seriously build a hunting school, Professor X? Like that's going to fix how fucked up everyone is? We enter this life through tragedy, no one sign up for this."
"I know, I know. 'You don't choose hunting, hunting chooses you', yada yada. But I thought about that. If we become established enough through this, new hunters will eventually hear about us through the grape vine. We could start this, we could be different than them Mai. We don't have to leave our families behind, there's safety in numbers." There's eagerness in his expression; eagerness and excitement.
Mai sighs, "I don't want that… It's a nice dream, but…" she steps back frowning .
His face maintains its expression, but the excitement is drained from his eyes. He moves his hands to his pockets. His eagerness scares her. The thought of building this corporate hunting machine scares her. But what scares her most is that he has obviously thought about this in depth before.
"Don't… you want out too?" she asks with trepidation.
Jett scratches his neck, looking down at her. "No," he says, "I mean… I do want out."
He pauses, then taking his hands and cupping Mai's face gently, he says to her, "I do want out, Miss Mai. It was just a thought…"
Slowly he pulls her into a hug, resting his head atop hers.
"We can get out…" she hears him whisper.
We…
A/N: New Chapter.