A/N: Thanks again to all those who have reviewed/followed/favorited this story! I think this chapter may help clear up where I am going with the plot here, because I know a few of you were a little confused as to what my intentions for this story were. Enjoy!

Chapter Four

Cupid was back. And boy, was he excited.

"This could actually work, Gabriel!" The cherub was nearly jumping up and down. Childish, but that's what being a love angel would do to you.

Gabriel was playing pool at a bar in Vegas. The lights were dim, music was loud, and Gabriel was racking up the cash. He moved to the other side of the table, took aim, and made his move. Easy shot. The ball bounced right in. He straightened, pleased, and faced Gabriel, taking a sip of his beer.

He had not yet gone to visit this mysterious girl. He figured he'd have a bit of fun before trekking off to Maine. There wasn't anything spectacular there, after all.

Cupid picked one of the balls off the table and tossed it a few times. "Dean Winchester doesn't have to be a threat. This could work. In fact, this could be a defining moment in my career. All the angels will respect me!"

"Have the angel-human duo found her yet?" Gabriel asked. Then he smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Assuming they're searching for a female and not…."

"Oh, it's a girl all right," Cupid assured him. "I could sense it. I only caught glimpses. It was strange, though…" Cupid took a swig of his own beer. "Almost… conflicting? Like there were two destinies trying to get the upper hand. I mean, people have more than one soul mate, and that could be it, but I couldn't help feeling like things were a bit muddled…."

"I guess we'll find out—perhaps she's got facial hair." Gabriel chuckled to himself, taking another shot.

Cupid suddenly didn't seem so confident. "No… No, I'm pretty sure what I told them was correct. Oh, and another thing…" He leaned forward, lowering his voice as much as he could while still being heard over the booming music. "She's in danger. I don't know how or why, but I clearly saw the shadow of death reaching for her. I was thinking maybe I should keep an eye on her."

"After you find her first," Gabriel reminded him.

"Oh, that won't be hard," Cupid said with a wave of his hand. "But I can't always be watching her… I've got other things to do."

"Let the kids worry about it," Gabriel said, gauging his next shot. "You don't need to babysit some human."

"But that's the thing." Cupid suddenly looked anxious. "Like I said, this could be a big moment for me. I don't want it to go wrong."

Gabriel didn't say anything. The way Cupid was watching him gave him an idea of what was coming next. He sighed, straightened, and leaned against his pool stick. "Lemme guess. You want someone else to look after her if need be."

Cupid looked hopeful. "You'd really be doing me a favor, Gabriel…"

"I don't do favors." Gabriel twirled his pool stick in his hand, and turned back to the table. "Besides, they're probably on their way there this minute. She won't need any protection with those two around."

"They still need to get Dean," Cupid pointed out.

Gabriel sighed in frustration, but didn't let the smirk fade from his lips. He wasn't in the habit of letting people know when he was the least bit bothered by something. "She'll be fine. She can wait."

Cupid still didn't look convinced. "Well… if I ever do need you to look after her, could I count on you?"

"Psh. No."

Cupid was silent as Gabriel took the last and final shot, watching as the eight ball rolled into oblivion. He finally turned back to the cherub. Cupid was turning the puppy dog eyes on big time, along with an annoying pout. Gabriel sighed again, his smirk diminishing. Time to get serious. "Look. Babysitting some human girl is not my idea of a temporary job. But…" He took another swig of his beer, then set it back down, staring Cupid down. His puppy dog look did not even falter. "I suppose…. If you really needed me too… I could pop down in Maine once in a while."

Cupid's chubby face broke into the widest of grins. "Gabriel, you're the best." The bone crushing hug following his words was expected, Gabriel supposed, but why was it even necessary? He brushed himself off.

"Now if you excuse me, I've got a night of fun planned ahead of me."

Cupid punched Gabriel in the shoulder, nearly sending him flying. "I gotcha. Thanks, Gabriel."

Once Cupid had left, Gabriel hung around the bar for a few minutes before making up his mind. Camden, Maine had better watch out.

The Trickster was on his way.

Castiel had hoped for some kind of sign, some evidence that Dean had been around. Unfortunately, that would prove to be more difficult than he'd thought.

"You just found him here, in this forest," Castiel repeated, looking back at the angel standing next to him.

Daniel nodded, motioning to the ground, covered in dead leaves. "I'm afraid there's not much else to tell you."

Castiel resisted the urge to groan in frustration, or cast his eyes to the sky. There had to be some evidence lying around pointing to Dean's whereabouts. There just had to be. "So there were no witnesses?"

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "The trees…?"

Daniel was right. There wasn't going to be anyone around this densely forested area. Castiel nodded at him. "Thank you, Daniel." His eyes skimmed the ground. "Could I… could I have a moment?" Daniel nodded, resting a comforting hand on Castiel's shoulder for a moment before disappearing. That was something Castiel missed. His wings. His ability to be anywhere he wanted in a fraction of a second.

Now that he was alone, Castiel slowly walked around the area, eyes searching for any little clue. Several yards away was a rotting cabin that looked like it was at least a century old. He stared at it, wondering if that's where Cain had been hiding away until Dean came to kill him.

The setting sun's rays were barely poking through the trees as Castiel approached the little cabin. Cautiously, he stepped through the already open door.

There wasn't much inside—a straw mattress with an old, frayed quilt folded on top in one corner, and a fire place that had cobwebs in it on the other side of the room. Castiel surveyed the room some more, stepping into the light the window let in. Dust particles floated in the air around him. Why would Cain pick such a dump?

Castiel was about to turn to leave, when something glinted in the corner of his eye. He turned to face the mattress. Yes, there was something small and shiny over there. He slowly approached the bed. A cold wind blew through the cabin, making Castiel shiver. He would never get used to the fluctuating temperatures. He never had to worry about that as a fully-equipped angel.

The object was partially hidden under the quilt, which explained why he hadn't seen it before. Reaching underneath, he felt cool metal, and the whisper of a chain. It was a locket. Castiel studied the golden metal, which had rusted over the years. Carefully, Castiel popped the locket. Inside, was the faint picture of a woman… and a man. Castiel peered closer. The man looked…. He looked like…

There was a violent gust of wind, and Castiel turned his body to shield himself from the cold. When he straightened, he found himself face-to-face with a woman. All he could take in were her eyes—sunken, sad. He blinked a few times, then glanced down at the photo before looking back up at her.

She was the same woman from the photo.

"That's mine." Her voice was ice-cold, defensive.

Castiel nodded, setting it carefully back on the bed, keeping his eyes on her. "Who… who are you?" he asked, although he could already guess the answer.

She looked offended by his question. She flickered, then disappeared. Castiel lunged forward, as if catching her mid-flight might stop her. "No, wait!" he cried. "Do you know Cain?"

"Why?" She was behind him now, sitting elegantly on the mattress. She had the locket clasped in her hands, but her sunken eyes were focused on Castiel.

Castiel answered her calmly. "I'd heard he was killed."

Her gaze finally flickered away, fixing on some obscure spot behind Castiel. "Yes."

Castiel sucked in a breath. "Did you see it?"

She didn't answer him. She didn't appear to have heard him.

"Please," Castiel pressed. "My friend…. He has Cain's mark now. I need to find him."

She stood. "You don't find those who have the mark unless they want to be found."

"I think I can help him," Castiel said, watching her carefully, fearing she would flicker away at any moment. "Please, I need you to tell me what you saw."

Again, she didn't answer. She moved slowly to the window and gazed out of it. The sun was now low enough that hardly any light found its way inside the cabin.

Castiel tried again, using a different tactic. "I know who you are," he said, glancing at the locket she'd left on the bed. "You're Colette. Cain's wife."

She stiffened, and Castiel knew he was right.

"You cared about Cain," he continued. "You… loved him." He swallowed. "Well, Dean has people who care about him, too. People who want to help him. Please."

The silence stretched on. Just when Castiel thought she would continue to ignore him, she turned to face him. "I will tell you what I saw," she said, "If you promise me something first."

Castiel nodded. "What is it?"

Her gaze wandered sadly over to the locket on the mattress. "Take that to my grave. It is only a mile from here. Burn it with my bones."

Castiel watched her carefully. She looked back at him.

"I'm tired of being trapped in this world. I want to move on. Maybe I'll find him… Cain. We can be together."

Castiel didn't reply immediately. He knew it would be very unlikely that Cain would find a place in Heaven. But Colette was right about one thing—it was time for her to move on. No spirit should have to be stuck down here.

He picked up the locket and encased it in his hand protectively. "I will."

The smallest of smiles touched Colette's lips. "Cain was here because this was our home, a long time ago. He knew Dean was coming for him. He wanted to die here." She folded her hands in front of her. "Dean came. He killed Cain. Then… then another demon appeared."

"Crowley," Castiel assumed out loud.

Colette nodded. "It sounded like they were heading for Lawrence, Kansas."

Castiel frowned. "Why would they go there?"

Colette shook her head. "I do not know. The other demon didn't seem to like the idea, but Dean was adamant."

Castiel clutched the locket in his hand tighter. "Anything else?"

"That's all I know."

He nodded. "Thank you."

She focused her gaze completely on him. "Do not forget your promise."

The metal in his hands was now warm from holding it. "I won't," he said quietly.

The car was there when she got back.

Candi stepped through the door, drenched. The rain was still pounding on the windows. Aunt Maggie was most likely asleep after a long night of bar tending.

Candi went into her room and peeled off her wet clothes, and wrapped them up in a towel. She pawed at the pile of clothes at the foot of her bed for something dry and preferably clean. She settled on crawling into a hoodie and sweats.

Her room was more of a closet than anything. Her aunt's house didn't have any extra rooms for her to stay in, so they had made up a room for her in what was meant to be more of a storage closet. The ceiling sloped downward so she could only stand in one side of the room, but the floor was carpeted and the light bulb above her bed served well. She couldn't complain. It was the best her aunt could do for her.

After making a cup of warm milk, she crawled on top of her bed and pulled her laptop onto her lap, flipping it open. She turned on Vanessa Carlton music as she browsed Facebook, sipping at the milk and letting it banish every last thought of cold. She hummed along to "Heroes and Thieves," glancing at the time. She would have been getting off right about now. Thunder boomed ahead, and she was glad she left the boutique when she had.

Her phone began playing the Pirates of the Caribbean theme song, and she had to untangle herself from her bed and search through her purse for it. She found it, and glanced at the caller ID. It was Sue, Hickory's manager for the night. She quickly flipped it open, pressing it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Honey, I know you've told us to squeeze you in for any extra hours, so I called you. Helen called in sick. Could you come in in like twenty minutes?"

Candi stifled a groan. Yes, she had asked for extra hours, because they needed the extra income, but that didn't mean she enjoyed it. "Uh, yeah, sure. I'll be there."

"Wonderful. Bye-bye now."

Candi hung up, and flopped back onto her bed. She had twenty minutes to doll herself up. Those tips didn't just come in for good service.

A quarter of an hour later, Candi's dark hair had been brushed out and dried. She though she ought to straighten out some of the waves, but figured a messy bun would do. She didn't like a lot of makeup, but applied some brown eyeliner and mascara. She finished off with some lip gloss—cotton candy flavored. She considered herself in the mirror, and decided she would just have to do.

She ran outside, avoiding the puddles, and jumped into the old light blue Saturn. Upon starting it, she hissed out a frustrated sigh. The gas light was on. She ran back into the house, and opened the top cupboard in the kitchen that held their secret stash of money reserved for things like gas or emergencies. There was never much in there, but when Candi took down the tin, she couldn't help noticing how incredibly light it felt.

When she opened the lid, she saw why.

There was a total of four dollars and seventy-two cents inside.

Candi's heart sank. She would just have to put the money she made tonight into filling up the tank, at least part-way. Again, her personal savings weren't going to amount to much tonight.

When she'd moved in with her aunt, who was about to lose the house because she could barely pay rent, she'd offered to work and pay half of the rent as payment for letting her aunt stay. Now, her aunt relied heavily on her in order to pay the bills, and it took up most of the money Candi made.

Candi ran back outside and backed the car out. She would have a talk with her aunt about the missing money. She had a sneaking suspicion for where it had gone, but desperately hoped she was wrong.

At three thirty in the afternoon, Hickory's was completely dead. But there were the few regulars who would come in and order a shake and fries.

Once six o'clock rolled around, however, things sped up. It was a Friday night, and the middle of June, so the tourists were pouring in. It had apparently stopped raining, because no one who came in was the least bit wet or shaking out umbrellas.

"Candi!" Candi turned, plates of food poised on her arms. Hal, with a Mohawk and nose piercing, nodded his head towards the back of the restaurant. "I just seated another customer. Take his order, will you?"

She nodded, rushing off to deliver the food to a grumpy old couple who had taken ages to decide on what to eat and asked too many questions about the ingredients. After delivering the food, and assuring the elderly woman that no, there was no pepper in the dish, she made her way to the back, drawing out her notepad.

The man sitting alone in his booth was busy staring at a computer, and jotting some things in a notebook.

"Hello, sir," she said, causing him to pause and look up.

But she had trailed off, her introduction and offer for drinks fading from her lips. There were names on that notebook.

And one of them was hers.