A/N: So, this is my first time writing Candy, at least from his POV. I hope I do him justice.
This story is a WHIB/WHN (possibly WHI as well, but in only minor part—my plan is to mostly stick with the events of the episode as it happened) for the Season 11 episode "The Silence at Stillwater". For those of you not familiar with that episode: Candy is arrested for a murder he did not commit (what? shocking, I know…), held in the jail in secret (the sheriff and his people want no 'outside interference' when the Cartwrights start looking for their missing friend), aggressively 'questioned' several times throughout the day, implicated in said murder by the little boy who was the lone witness (an honest mistake), and forced to attempt an escape in order to finally put an end to the situation. At the close, poor Candy looks definitely worse for the wear.
I am posting this story as I write, so it will not be as quick as my last (which was all done before I started posting). However, the prologue being as short as it is, I will at least be posting chapter one along with it now. ;-)
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
When people ask why I'm a drifter, I can name a dozen quick reasons without even thinkin' hard. In the end, all those reasons really boil down to just two - trust and tight spaces - but those ain't ever on the list. Those ain't anybody's business but mine. Lately, since I went on the Cartwright payroll, I've been letting myself start to think that maybe they don't have to be my business, either ... but I shoulda known better. Layin' here on the ground under the moon, drunk and aching, without a fire or a bedroll or anything but my saddle to call my own (even my horse is technically stolen, though I doubt Mr. Cartwright will send the law after me), I do know better.
Trust and tight spaces.
Maybe I don't get to leave those two behind.