A/N: I'd like to extend a special thank you to suburbantimewaster for reviewing every single chapter and for her continued support. You guys should check her profile and stories out! And, as always, thank you to those who have stuck around from the beginning, and to those who have just joined. You are all fantastic. Enjoy, and drop a review to let me know what you thought! :)

Chapter Seven

It took an enormous amount of energy for Castiel to get to Heaven. They still could only use the portal that Metatron had constructed, so it was a nuisance for all of the angels to get back home. But home most of them had ended up, where even now they tried to come up with a solution to unblocking the way to Heaven.

Castiel knew he should help them. But finding and curing Dean came first. Castiel realized that now. And the other angels knew it too. Metatron had said it best himself—it was all about Dean, when it came to Castiel. Everything he did—it was for Dean. And the angels respected that. Most of them, anyways. Hannah was still upset that he wouldn't lead them, but they would find another leader. Or maybe they wouldn't and could learn how to live without one. They would find a way to fix things.

Castiel was escorted to Metatron's cell by an angel he didn't know.

Metatron was scratching away at the walls with a piece of chalk. He didn't even turn around when the angel had announced that he had a visitor. It wasn't until the other angel left that Metatron spoke.

"Had a feeling I'd be seeing you soon, Cas." He finished whatever he was writing with a flourish, and tossed the piece of chalk over his shoulder. Castiel noticed that there was writing all over the walls. Finally, he turned to face Castiel, giving him a toothy grin.

Something squirmed deep inside Castiel. It wasn't anger. He didn't even think it was hatred. No… it was disgust. He was disgusted by the former scribe of God.

Metatron grinned wider at Castiel's silence. "I take it you are at the end of your rope." He shook his head, mock concern replacing the annoying smile. "You've seen better days, my friend."

"I am not your friend." Castiel grasped the bars of the cell and glared inside it. "You killed my friend."

"But he's back, right? I've heard the rumors. You don't have to be mad at me at all, Castiel. He would have died eventually, and still ended up in the same stew." Metatron's grin was returning. Castiel wanted to throttle him.

"It doesn't matter now," Castiel said. "But… I want to help him. I need to help him."

"But your ticker's about gone."

"How can I restore my grace?"

Metatron stared at him for a moment, then burst out into laughter. He snorted a few times, covering his mouth. Castiel patiently waited. Metatron quit his giggling and gave Castiel a stern look. "Really, Castiel… you know better. Your grace was completely destroyed after I took it. It no longer exists."

Castiel was afraid of that answer. "There must be a way to recharge the grace I already have. Or get more."

Metatron was really enjoying himself now. "That is classified information."

"I'm not bargaining with you."

"Then enjoy the twilight of your life." Metatron fished for another piece of chalk from his pocket, and squatted down at his writing again. "Really, they couldn't even bring me some paper…" he muttered.

Castiel felt his grace flickering like a wilting flame inside him. He knew he wouldn't last to help Dean. He took a deep breath. "What do you want?" he finally asked.

Metatron stopped his writing. The silence stretched on. Then, he twisted to look at Castiel. "I want you to send a message."

Castiel tilted his head to the side. "What kind of message?"

Metatron stood back up. "I can reverse the spell. But I want to be let out of this cage. Now, the other angels won't trust me, Castiel. But you… they'll listen to you." His smile was smug. "Tell them I can fix things. Tell them to let me out. And then I will tell you how you can replenish your grace."

Castiel stared at Metatron for several moments before turning away. "No. I'll find another way."

"Good luck," Metatron said, and faced the wall again.

But Castiel didn't leave. He couldn't. He had to come up with another deal, another way. He didn't trust Metatron. It would be foolish to let him out. Finally, he turned back to Metatron.

"Tell us how to reverse the spell. If it works, we'll let you out, and you tell me how to replenish my grace. Do we have a deal?"

Metatron continued to scratch away at the wall. Castiel waited patiently. Metatron ran out of chalk. He brushed his hands on his pants, standing. He turned, looked Castiel straight in the eyes, and stuck his hand through the bars.

"Deal."

"Was that guy checking me out? Pretty sure that guy was checking me out." Jen pointed straight ahead, and Candi half-heartedly looked to where she was pointing.

"Jen, there are hundreds of guys in front of us. Describe him to me."

"Well, he's tall, has long, luscious locks…"

"He already sounds creepy."

"But it's the sexy kind of long."

"Not the greasy kind?"

"Not the greasy kind. Look, there he is again! No, don't look at him, we've got to act normal."

Candi still had no idea who Jen was talking about, but she was sure she'd find out once Jen said hello to him. She was busy trying to text her aunt back, telling her she'd get the car back home in time for her to drive it to work tonight.

She felt Jen leave her side. "Hey, you from around here?"

A very male, very sexy, voice answered. "Uh, no, I'm not. I actually… wanted to talk to your friend there."

Candi looked up in confusion.

First, she focused on the man. He was standing next to a stand of brochures, and she instantly recognized him as the strange customer with her name in his notebook. Next, she looked at Jen, who looked torn between jealousy and indignation.

"You again," she said with an awkward smile. "How's that article coming?"

"Wait… you know him?!" Jen blurted.

"I served him at Hickory's."

"Can I have your job?"

"Only if I can still get paid."

The man cleared his throat. "Actually, Candice, I need your help."

"It's Candi," she corrected him. "And sure, is it for your article?"

He nodded, pulling out his notebook. The one that had her name in it. "I need to ask you some questions. Is now a good time?"

Candi exchanged looks with Jen, and hesitated. The man pulled out his wallet. "Ice cream's on me."

Candi could see that Jen was completely on board with that, so she agreed. They ducked into the ice cream parlor across the street, and placed their orders.

Before long, Jen had her banana split, and Candi her mint chocolate chip ice cream cone.

"I'm Sam, by the way," the man said, reaching across the table to shake Candi's hand.

"I'm Jennifer! But call me Jen," Jen said with a wink as she grasped his hand.

"Okay, good to meet you, Jen."

Candi observed his face, and the kind smile he gave her friend. The guy wasn't creepy at all. And Jen was right—he definitely pulled off the long hair.

"So… let's begin. How long have you two lived in Camden?" He was leaning forward, fully attentive.

"All our lives," Jen said quickly. "We've been friends since kindergarten." She grinned at Candi, who smiled back, tugging at Jen's ponytail playfully.

Sam smiled, nodding. "Nice. Nice… so, have you been outside Camden at all? On vacations, maybe?"

One by one they answered Sam's questions. He listened to their every word. Jen was gaining more and more confidence, and soon her flirting was becoming almost unbearable. Candi had to kick her under the table on more than one occasion.

Things were going well, and Candi even allowed a few laughs. But then Sam began asking questions that splashed ice water on her fun, and she instantly became sober.

"What about your parents? Have they lived here all their lives?"

Jen answered the question on her end—no, they were originally from New York, and then she reached for Candi's hand under the table, squeezing it.

Candi cleared her throat. "Uh, yeah, mine have."

"And they still enjoy living here?"

She could feel Jen watching her, and silently giving her support. Candi's eyes searched the parlor, desperate to look anywhere but at Sam or Jen. "Actually… both of my parents are dead."

Sam instantly looked sorry for asking the question. "I'm sorry. How did you lose them?"

"I don't think…" Jen started, but Candi interrupted her.

"No, it's okay." She took a deep breath, and her eyes settled on the silver napkin dispenser. "My mom was a victim of cancer. She passed away when I was five. My dad drowned two years ago. Well, almost two years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that. You said your family were fishermen as far back as you know. Your dad knew the ocean well, then?"

She nodded, still staring intently at the napkin dispenser like it was a life line. "He was a strong swimmer. I don't know… how it happened…"

A heavy silence hovered over their booth. Candi couldn't take it any longer

"I'm sorry," she said, standing. "I'll be right back. Bathroom."

She left the two, trying to force her tears away. She should have been used to this by now. The bathroom door swung open, and she locked herself in the stall, putting the lid down on the toilet and sitting on it. Deep breaths, Candi, she told herself.

As long as she didn't let that first tear fall, she would be fine.

Sam felt bad about probing Candi, especially in such a public place and with her friend listening in. But in the end, that might have been for the best.

When Candi left for the restroom, Sam leaned forward, completely focusing on Jen. It was obvious how she felt about him. He could get answers from her. "That's a terrible thing to go through," he started.

Jen nodded. "I can't even imagine. She's definitely closed up since then. She used to be so bubbly, so happy…" She shrugged. "She seems to be doing fine now, but she's different. More… mellow. Mature, maybe?" She shrugged again.

Sam pressed his lips together. Time to fish for the answers he was looking for. "Was she there when he drowned?"

Jen glanced behind him to make sure Candi wasn't on her way back, and leaned forward so their faces were only a foot apart. "Yeah. It was really bad."

"Bad?"

She nodded. "I guess she went into shock or something. She kept screaming about something dragging her dad away and drowning him. We asked if it was a fish, a shark… she insisted it was something else." Jen lowered her voice to a whisper, and Sam had to lean closer to hear her. "She thought she saw human hands pulling him under." She sat back with a shudder.

Sam's fears were very nearly confirmed. Something had dragged Dave under and drowned him. And it wasn't some fish.

"What does she say about it now?" Sam asked.

"Well, that's the thing," Jen said, looking behind him once more. "She doesn't remember the drowning. Like I said… shock."

Sam frowned. "She doesn't remember seeing anything… strange?"

"She doesn't remember seeing her dad drown at all, let alone what did it. So, that's a relief I guess."

Sam nodded.

"So," Jen said with a flirtatious smile. "Got any more questions to ask? We could always take this discussion to the beach."

"Uh, actually…" Sam made a big show of checking his watch for the time. "Once Candi gets back, I'm afraid I'll have to wrap things up and hit the road. I've got other… appointments."

"Aw." Jen pouted. Thankfully, Candi returned, sparing him from having to come up with a response.

"Sorry, where were we?" Candi asked.

"You know what, I think I've got all the information I need. Thanks, girls." He stood, and Jen stood with him. Candi remained seated, watching him.

"Good luck on that article," she finally said.

He nodded at her. "Thank you." He hesitated, then reached out and patted her on the back. "Take care, Candi."

He knew Jen was wanting a similar farewell, but instead he nodded at her, and left the ice cream parlor. He had to find Dean, and quickly. Who knew what could happen to Candi while he was gone? He hoped to God that the thing that had taken her father wasn't after her too.

So, the Sam had found the Candi.

And the Sam had to make the Candi sad.

Bad Sam.

Gabriel strolled along behind Candi and Jen as they continued their evening together. Jen wanted to go to a clothes store and try on a bunch of outfits, but Candi didn't seem up to joining her friend. Instead, she sat outside the dressing room, giving opinions on the different outfits Jen came out to display. Gabriel had a sneaking suspicion that Jen knew that was what Candi needed—some alone time to collect her thoughts and emotions.

An hour and $112.77 later, they decided to order a pizza and devour it while sitting at the beach.

The more Gabriel watched Candi, the more curious he became. He thought back to what was on her ceiling.

It was a sigil, and one he recognized. Its purpose was to hamper memories. Or, as he suspected in this case, only one memory.

It was written in a substance that Gabriel knew humans couldn't see. So then who put it there? And why? From listening in on Sam's questioning session, Gabriel realized it was there to keep Candi from remembering her father's death. Had what she'd seen really been so bad?

Yep. Gabriel's curiosity was certainly peaked. He would take the job. The… guardian angel-type job. Cupid had better pay him handsomely for this. He owed him.

After making sure Candi was alright, Jen began to ramble about how hot Sam was. And Gabriel… Gabriel just couldn't listen to such nonsense.

So, he decided to browse the town. After all, he would be sticking around for a while. Who knew when they'd find Dean, or when Sam would be back? Besides, Gabriel had nothing better to do. Maybe he could mess with a few saps while he was at it.

But he needed a cover. He needed to approach Candi at some point, speak with her. But as whom?

Gabriel scanned the crowds of people on the beach, then his eyes wandered to the lighthouse that was perched on the cliffs in the distance. He smirked.

Time to suit up, and become the light and the way.