Chapter 3:

Sam sat on on the edge of his bed, covering his face with his hands. Memories of the torture he suffered through in the cage run through his mind on repeat. It felt a if every cut, every burn Lucifer inflicted on him was still itching on his skin. Just when it felt like he was being consumed by fire all over again, a knock on the door caught his attention and freed him from his thoughts. He stood up, swaying a little from a dizzying headache. After taking a moment to steady himself, he pulled open the door. On the other side was Candy, her curls pulled back into a bun except for her bangs that fell in her face. She was everything he remembered her to be. Much smaller than him and beautiful in every way.

"Sam," she smiled nervously. "Dean told me what room you were in, and I wanted to come see you alone. Can I come in?" For a moment, Sam just stood there, looking at the girl he loved with an ache in his chest. Then, he stepped to the side and let her in. "Dean's packing everything up now. We're going to be ready to leave soon, and we want you to come along again. I'll even let you take back your place in the front seat," she laughed half-heartedly.

"Candy," Sam sighed, closing the door to his motel room. He paused, and stared at her for a moment. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he rushed at her. His arms wrapped around her waist and hoisted her off of the ground. She let out a light oomph as he squeezed her against him tightly. Instinctively, her arms went around his neck, mostly to hold herself up, but also because she really wanted to hold Sam again. Just for the moment.

"I missed you, Sam. I really did. You don't know how much we both missed you," Candy said to him. Sam set her down carefully, then turned away. "I know what it must look like. What you must be feeling... It's not like that. Dean took care of me. He came back for me, and made sure I was okay and had everything I could ever need and... I'm sorry, Sam. I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. Just... Tell me. Do you love him?"

"Yes. I really do, Sam," Candy frowned. "But I still care about you. You and Dean are still family, and there's nothing he cares about more than you. Nothing." Sam whirled back around,

"Yes there is, Candy. He cares about you." He shook his head, "Look, there's more important things to talk about right now. I'll be ready in a minute. Then I'll go wherever with you two. Please. Just go."

"Sam..."

"Go, Candy," he said more sternly than before. Candy sucked in a breath, then she left just as Sam had asked her. She wanted to stay, and she wanted to tell Sam everything she used to say to him while he was gone. When she knew he couldn't really hear her. Except Sam didn't want to talk about it, which she completely understood. She couldn't imagine how he must have felt, coming back from the cage somehow and finding out that his brother and his girlfriend were together.

Dean looked up just as Candy came through the door. She looked distressed, but he figured it would be best not to ask her about the conversation between her and Sam. That was private and between them. Dean had no right to know; however, the jealous and insecure part of Dean wanted to know exactly what was said between them. He wanted to know if they hugged, or if Sam had kissed her. There was a pit in his stomach that wasn't going to go away until he knew.

"How'd it go?" He finally talked himself into questioning her. Candy didn't seem at all bothered by the question and didn't flinch before answering.

"Not well. He picked me up and hugged me, but... I don't know. He doesn't want to talk about it. He's upset, and he's sad. He seemed to be hurting physically, too, but Sam said he was going to get ready and come with us." She slid out of her jacket. "I want to know how the hell he got out of that cage, Dean. I don't understand. You said when you came back from hell that it was Castiel that brought you back. Do you think he heard us praying? You think Cas brought Sam back?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen or heard from that feathery son-of-a-bitch in a long time, Candy. Maybe he heard us, but I can't be sure unless I talk to him," Dean shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Look. We'll sit down with Sam somewhere and talk about it. We gotta head out to the next case soon before anybody else dies."

"Where's that at?"

"Arcadia. It's in Louisiana. There's an antique shop there and its customers are getting more than they bargained for. There's three recorded deaths so far, all unexplained. It's not far. We'll stop along the way to eat. We can talk about things then." Dean zipped up the last suitcase. "You ready to go, Candy?"

"Do you really think we should be dragging Sam into another job already? He just got back, Dean," Candy reminded him with an unnervingly high level of concern. "Look, I'm not saying we don't go, I'm just saying maybe Sam should sit out of this one. Get some rest, you know."

"I don't disagree with you. I just... I don't want to slow down. We've been working jobs back to back, and it feels good to be making a difference." Dean grabbed their suitcases in both hands and hauled them out of the room. Candy threw up her arms in frustration, then helped carry more things out to the Impala. Typically, the more stressed out Dean was, the quicker he worked through cases. Sometimes it would be hard to Candy to keep up, and Dean would become distant. That was the only thing Candy couldn't stand. She needed him.

Once Dean and Candy packed up the Impala, Candy headed back down to where Sam had been staying. Oddly, Sam's door was cracked open. Candy was sure she had closed it. Moving cautiously, Candy crept into the room, her hand on the knife holster at her side. It didn't take long for her to realize Sam had packed up and bailed before they went back for him. She had no idea why or where we was going to go, but she knew that they would have to find him.

She rushed back to Dean to tell him the bad news. Dean's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything in response. Instead, he just finished packing their things into the back seats as if she had said nothing to him at all.

"Dean, we have to go find him," she pleaded. "Sam doesn't need to be out on his own anymore and we have to find out what the hell happened." Dean ignored her plea, and instead ordered her to get into the car in a tone that was a little too harsh for Candy. Without saying anything else, Candy obeyed Dean, and they sped off from the motel parking lot.

Just like Dean had said before, it didn't take long for them to reach Arcadia. The town was small and seemed to be business oriented, but there was also a good bit of history to the area. The town had more than one antique shop, but they found the right one before too long. They decided to wait until morning to visit the store, so they found a motel to stay at for the night as usual. Dean was silent the entire time they were unpacking the car, and it made Candy nervous. The only time Dean was ever that quiet was when he was upset or jealous. To avoid being snapped at, Candy remained equally silent. She didn't speak until they were getting ready to settle down for the night.

"Hey, Dean," Candy called to him, flopping down on the bed. He emerged from the bathroom with a toothbrush protruding from his mouth. "What do we do now?" Dean leaned back into the bathroom to spit into the sink, then washed his toothbrush off in the sink. He came back out after a minute and pulled his shirt over his head. "Dean... Can we please talk now? I hate when you won't talk to me... Makes me worry."

"You don't have anything to worry about, Candy," Dean sighed, crawling into bed beside her. "I promise. You're going to be fine. We'll find Sammy, or he'll find us. He's my brother... I know I should go after him, but at the same time, I keep hoping he has a damn good reason for ditching us right after he came back. I'm going to call Bobby in the morning and see if that's where Sam's heading. If not, maybe he could track him."

"We should be out there looking for him. Not here in this little town tracking down some haunted antiques," Candy grumbled. Dean rolled onto his side and rested his head on his hand.

"We don't know they're haunted."

"Isn't it usually a haunting if it involves something old like antiques. Dean, I'm just saying... This case isn't more important than Sam."

"Believe me, no one knows that more than I do, but... I'm not gonna push Sam into anything. I think he has the right to make his own decisions. How fair is it of us to drag him along? We couldn't stay in the same hotel room. I know that if the roles were reversed... It would hurt like hell to see you two together all the time. It would hurt for awhile," Dean told her.

"I'm hungry," Candy said suddenly, jolting up out of the bed. "I'm going to run to the snack machine really quick, okay? I'll be right back." She snatched up her purse from the counter and threw it over her shoulder.

"Alright. Be careful."

"Always."

The crisp night air felt good on Candy's bared skin. She wasn't really that hungry, but she needed a reason to leave the room for a minute. The truth was that Candy really didn't want to be working some stupid case while Sam was somewhere alone. He had just come back from being locked in a cage with Lucifer and Michael, and Candy wanted to make sure he was alright. She knew Dean did, too, but Dean's guilt was forcing him to accept that Sam needed his space. Candy, on the other hand, didn't want to give Sam any space at all.

It was dark around the side of the building except for the lights radiating off of the snack and drink machines. Candy had to pull out her phone to use as a light to examine the buttons closely enough to read them. Using all the change she could find in the bottom of her purse, she purchased a bag of potato chips and a bottle of water. When she turned around to head back to the room, something hit her hard in the gut. She doubled over in pain, then collapsed to the ground, holding her stomach and groaning. Her purse slid off of her shoulder.

She expected her attacker to grab the purse from around her arm and take off running, but he didn't. Instead, he yanked her up by her hair and left her purse sitting on the ground. The attacker threw her back against the wall and put a cold silver blade against her throat. She looked up and saw that it was a man. He had messy blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing a suit, which seemed unusual for someone hanging around a cheap motel.

"Where's Sam Winchester?" The man asked with a deep voice.

"I don't know who you're talking about," she lied instinctively. "If you want my money, take it. It's on the ground."

"I don't give a damn about your money. I want Sam Winchester. Now tell me where he is!" The man snapped at her angrily. "I know you know who he is, Candace. You were his little girlfriend before he jumped in with Lucifer. He had to have come back to see you. You know where he is, and if you don't tell me, I'm going to slit your throat."

"You must have the wrong red-head, Mister. I can't help you," she grunted, struggling to push the man off of her. "Now get off of me before I start yelling rape."

"You stupid girl." He pulled her off of the wall and threw her to the ground. Before she could get up again, he was sitting on her thighs, trying to force her flailing arms into submission. When she started to scream, the man covered her mouth with his hand. "Shut up. Don't make another sound." She quieted down after a minute. "If you tell me what you know about Sam Winchester, I'll let you live."

"Go to hell," Candy spat once he took his hand off of her mouth. "I don't know what you're talking about, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you anything, you piece of..." She was silenced by a painful backhand to her cheek. The man grabbed her face in his hand and forced her to look up at him again.

"Candace, tell me what you know."

"Eat me."

"Fine. If you don't want to talk..." The man pressed the blade against her wrist, "maybe I can make you squeal." He pierced her skin and dragged the knife horizontally across her arm. "If the Winchesters are anywhere around her, they'll come running to rescue their little pet." Candy bit her tongue, keeping her mouth closed to prevent her from screaming. She knew that if she made a sound, Dean would hear and come running into danger to save her, and she didn't want to risk his life to spare hers.

After failing to get the reaction he desired, the man placed the knife on the top of her breast. Then, he dug the tip of the knife into her skin. The longer she stayed silent, the deeper he stabbed the blade into her chest. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Candy opened her mouth and let out a loud, desperate scream.

"That's better," the man chuckled. "Louder, Candace." He pulled the knife from her chest and jabbed it into her shoulder. Once again, she cried out in pain, begging the man to stop. It wasn't long after she screamed that she heard footsteps running towards them.

"Get off of her, you bastard!" She heard Dean yell. There was a gunshot, then the man jumped to the side. He stood and faced Dean with a grin on his face.

"Where's your wayward brother, Dean?" the man asked curiously. "You must know where he is. Is he here with you two? Or did he leave you alone to take carry his baggage?" The snarkiness in his tone made Dean even angrier than he already was.

"What are you? An angel? A demon?" Dean questioned him.

"My name is Azreth. I'm an angel. Your brother is aiding the enemy, Dean, and it's my job to locate and destroy him. Now tell me where he is."

"Even if your job was to give him cupcakes and a massage, I wouldn't tell you anything," Dean grimaced. "Now get the hell out of here before I take your head off your shoulders."

"Oh, Dean. Always so quick to rush to the rescue. If I were you, I'd keep an eye on the girl. Because I'll definitely be around. I'm not going anywhere until I find your brother," Azreth chuckled. "I have a feeling he'll make an appearance eventually." And with that final word, he vanished. Dean hurried over to Candy, scooping her up in his arms.

"I'm fine, Dean," she panted, holding her breath after every word to keep from groaning in pain again. He rolled his eyes at her and rushed her back to the motel room.

"I need to patch you up. You still have that first aid kit in your bag?"

"It's outside on the ground."

"I'm going to go get it," he headed for the door. "You take off your shirt. It'll be easier to get to your shoulder and chest that way."

"That's usually your job."

"Be serious for a minute, Candy. You're bleeding everywhere."

"Please... I'm a girl. What do I care about a lot of blood?" She scoffed, carefully shimmying out of her tee shirt.

"Seriously, Candy? Christ, I swear you're more of a smartass than I am," Dean laughed, leaving the room to go retrieve the purse. As soon as he left, Candy balled her tee shirt up and held it against her wrist in an attempt to stop the bleeding. She was already starting to feel light-headed, and she knew that it was dangerous for her to just sit there and bleed. Luckily, Dean came back into the room relatively quickly.

"Hurry, Dean," she breathed, slumping over slightly. "I'm starting to get tired, and that's not a good thing."

"I got it, Candy," he frowned. He laid the kit beside her on the bed and rummaged through it until he found bandages and medical tape. It didn't take him long to patch her up, but by the end of it, Candy was struggling to stay sitting up. "Hey," he lifted her off of the bed in his arms again. He held her against his chest like she was a small child he was carrying to bed, then laid her in the other bed gently. He pulled back the covers so she could slide her legs underneath. "How you feeling?"

"Like I just woke up after a night of purple nurples and cheap vodka," she joked light-heartedly. Dean couldn't help but smile at the mention of the purple drink that he had once loaded her up with. He spent the rest of that night sitting behind her and rubbing her back while she emptied her stomach into a toilet. "I tried not to scream. I didn't want him to hurt you."

"He wasn't going to hurt me, Candy," Dean brushed her hair out of her face. "All he wanted was to lure me out. I wish you would have called for me sooner so that bastard didn't hurt you like he did. I was so scared when I heard you scream... I hate when you get hurt."

"I'm not a huge fan of it either, baby," she smiled, "but I do love when you take care of me. You're so good at it."

"If I was so good at it, you wouldn't be hurt in the first place," he muttered, walking back to the door to lock it. "Get some sleep, Candy."

"Dean... Do you ever think about one day getting out of all of this?" Candy wondered innocently. "What it would be like to have a house with a backyard. A dog running around, or maybe... Maybe a little girl."

"Candy, I told you once you get into this life, there's no getting out... I told you that when I picked you up from the bar that night."

"I know, but I can't help but think about what it would be like. To have a kid one day, or even a regular job. I'm not as good at pool as you are. Or poker for that matter. If I ever earn us any money, it's by working a night shift or two as some run down bar in whatever town we're staying in. And when you aren't there to run off creeps, they spend all night trying to get into my pants. I hate it..."

"So don't work at bars, Candy. I can get enough money for the both of us. You don't have to do that," Dean looked at her empathetically. "Trust me, I hate when guys flirt with you, too, Candy. Makes me want to put a bullet in their heads. I've never been like that before. Jealous... But with you everything is different. Stronger..."

"I know the feeling well," Candy pulled Dean down onto the bed with her. She moved closer to him and laid her head on his chest. "When did it become a normal thing to have to patch up multiple wound on my body?"

"Um... after that one time when that shapshifter in Atlanta kicked your ass," Dean teased her. "In your defense, the woman was build like ole Arnie in Terminator. Still... That was pretty bad."

"She was wearing four inch heels... God, they hurt like hell."

"Not as much as the gun she used to shoot me in the leg," Dean mumbled shamefully. They laughed together for a bit, then Candy curled up into a ball beside him,

"Goodnight, Dean Winchester.

"Sweet dreams, Candy."