Hey, everyone! I know it's been a while... again... but I promised I would finish this story, so I will. No matter how long it takes. Anyway, I think this chapter is worth the wait. ;)

Chapter Twenty-One

Crowley downed another shot of vodka, letting the burn slide down his throat. He set the small glass down with a clack, and checked his phone. Sam hadn't been in contact in a while. Crowley wondered if he and the angel had gotten any closer to curing Dean; he was getting tired of hiding.

The bar stool next to him scrapped on the wooden floor as it was pulled from the table. Someone sat heavily in the chair, and Crowley's senses skyrocketed. Trying to keep his cool, he glanced to his side and sucked in a careful breath.

"Dean," he said. "How'd you get around the warding spell?"

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve," Dean said. He motioned to the bar tender, who poured him a drink.

"Obviously." Crowley tapped his fingers on the table. "I'm assuming you wanted to talk?"

"Yeah, actually." Dean turned so he was completely facing Crowley and smiled. It was a ruthless, reckless smile. "Tell me where Sam is, and I won't kill you."

"Now, Dean." Crowley held up his wrists. "You couldn't kill me anyway. Sam and I are blood brothers now, remember?"

"Break the spell, and I won't kill you."

"Sorry, love," Crowley folded his hands on the table. "The binding spell is my only guarantee."

"Then what do you want, Crowley?" Dean growled. "I know Sam's up to something. Where is he?"

Crowley took a moment to debate. Would it be the worst thing if he told Dean what he wanted to hear? Crowley never gave anything out for free. Surely they could arrange a trade.

"Fine," Crowley said. "I'll tell you where dear Moose is, and the next time I call you for a favor, you bloody well better show up and do my bidding. One time only. Deal?"

"Sure, whatever." Dean leaned forward, waiting for Crowley to continue.

"Maine," Crowley said. "You'll most likely find him in Camden, Maine."

Dean frowned. "Why the hell would he be in Maine?"

"Ah, ah," Crowley said, holding up a finger. One question per favor, please."

"Hell, Crowley." Dean stared Crowley down, but Crowley wasn't about to be bullied. He pressed his lips together and twirled the shot glass in front of him.

Dean sighed in exasperation. "Fine. I'll owe you another favor. Now answer the question."

"I imagine Sam would be in Maine because there's a girl there who might be able to tame the beast – the beast being you, of course. Not sure what's so special about her, but apparently Cupid thinks she could be helpful in Sam's quest to cure the Deanmon."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Sounds like a long shot."

"That's what I said."

Dean grunted. He downed the rest of his drink, slid off the bar stool, and left. Crowley drummed his fingers on the table. To tell Sam or not to tell Sam?

"This should be interesting," he murmured.

At least now Dean and Candi would be in the same town. It was about time.

Sam gnawed on a crab leg, trying to pry it open with his teeth. It cracked, and he tore it open, revealing the white meat inside. He scraped the slimy meat out and stuffed it in his mouth, swallowing quickly.

Something clattered on the rock he was hiding behind and fell into the water with a small splash. He was hiding under a dock, where the water was shallow. Curious, he fished the object out of the water. It looked like a handmade device made out of a bottle opener, a nut cracker, and thin wire. It had a slick, silky substance on it that he could feel, but couldn't see.

Sam looked around to see who had thrown it, but the area was deserted this early in the morning. He examined the tool again, then realized it could be handy in harvesting the crab meat.

He grew suspicious. Someone must have seen him struggling with the crab and thrown the device at him. He thought he heard a splash further away from shore. Time to investigate.

Abandoning the remaining crab, he dove into the ocean, beating his tail to slice through the water. Ahead, there was something swimming away from him. He moved faster, shooting towards the object in front of him. It dove downwards. Sam followed close behind.

He found himself above a collection of large rocks, where a few fish weaved around. But the thing in front of him was gone.

Not ready to give up, Sam swam around the area, looking for a crevice that something nearly as big as him could hide in. He fingered the tool in his hand. He brushed his other hand against some of the rocks as he swam by.

Then he stopped, running his hand over the top of one of the larger rocks. It was slick and silky, much like the substance on the device he had found.

"Could be oil," he murmured. But his gut instincts told him there was something more going on.

So he waited. He patrolled the area, keeping close to the rocks and searching for more of the invisible substance. A few rocks had the same feel, but they were all in the same area.

A clicking sound made its way through the salt water to Sam's ears. He looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. He could see quite well in the water, especially now that the sun was high in the sky and piercing through the ocean's depths.

Sam rounded the corner of a large, black rock. He instantly drew back, feeling his heart pound. He carefully peeked around the corner again. No, he wasn't seeing things.

A creature with a sleek, silver fish tail was tracing something on a rock with its long, pale finger.

So much for Disney princess mermaids. The creature in front of him looked more alien than human. It had wisps of dark hair in patches on its head, but it wasn't long. Its face was so thin it was nearly skeletal, its eyes large and black. Sam could see the bumps of its spine protruding from its curved back.

So humanoid fish monsters really did exist. Was this the one terrorizing Candi? Did it drown her father, and other members of her family before that? Why? And how could he kill it?

The creature's head popped up, its eyes glinting in the beams of light that streamed from above.

I can sense your presence, human.

The voice in Sam's head tickled, a buzz in his brain he had never experienced before. Sam clutched the object in his hand. If needed, he could use it as a weapon. He watched as the creature slowly turned its head until its glinting black eyes landed on Sam. The clicking started up again, and Sam had no doubt it was coming from the creature in front of him.

"What are you?" he said. Sound carried over differently in water. Sam spoke low and slow, making sure his words could reach the ears of the monster. It stayed where it was, watching him.

What I am is irrelevant. You're on our territory.

Too late to react, thin, cold hands grasped Sam's arms. Black eyes and silver scales and pale bodies swarmed around him like a school of tuna. He struggled, trying to fight back, but the water churned with movement. There had to be at least ten of them surrounding him. He was pulled through the water, and the light from the sun disappeared.

"Gabriel, you realize you reached stalker status weeks ago? Isn't this a bit much?"

Gabriel set down his menu. "I'll have the house wings, please," he said with a slow smile. Candi shook her head, grabbing his menu and tucking it under her arm. "You're impossible," she said.

"And probable," Gabriel said with a wink. That made her laugh. "I'll be back. Oh, and I'm off at 9, in case you were wondering."

Candi had never felt like she was very good at flirting, but after their date two nights ago, she felt more comfortable around Gabriel. She walked away from his table, feeling a bubble balloon in her chest and float to her head in a giddy rush.

Jen was the first to know about the date. Candi had stayed up late that night, giving Jen all the juicy details. After dinner, Gabriel drove along the coast and they blared more music. She told him more about her dad and wanting to go to college to study marine biology. They would have spent more time out, but Candi's aunt had called requesting her to come home.

It wasn't like her aunt to care much where Candi was, or when she'd return, but she sounded nervous, so Gabriel drove her home with the promise that they would be seeing each other soon.

What was odd was coming home to her aunt. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't quite remember what had concerned her. "I was scared, Candi. I'm not sure of what. But I was scared."

"Did something spook you, maybe?" Candi had asked, giving her aunt a hug so she could smell her breath. Alcohol.

Her aunt's eyes narrowed until they were almost closed as she concentrated, trying to conjure a memory that just wouldn't surface. "Someone else was here, Candi," she had said. "I know it. And he scared me."

In the end, Candi chalked it up to too much booze and an overworked aunt whose stress had gotten the best of her. She was a little annoyed that her date had been cut short for nothing, but the annoyance gave way to lightheadedness when she went to her room and thought about Gabriel's hair and golden eyes. She had never seen eyes like his. And she loved how focused they were on her all night long.

Candi went to her next table, clicking her pen and pasting a smile on her face. "Good evening, sir. My name's Candi and I'll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get anything for you to drink?"

The man looked up from a laptop. His scowl softened a bit when he saw her. His green eyes looked her up and down. She'd received that response from men before, but something made her shiver this time.

"Candi, I was wondering if you could help me out." He turned his laptop so she could see the screen. "Have you seen this man?"

She stared at the picture, then eyed the man behind it. His green eyes were intent on hers. Somehow, she felt he already knew her answer.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, why do you need to know?"

"He's my brother," the man said, leaning back in his chair. "And I can't seem to get a hold of him."

Candi remembered what Gabriel had told her about Sam and his brother. Her previous feelings that the man was a threat dissipated slightly. "Oh, right!" she said. "I've heard about you – Dean, right?"

Dean cocked his head to the side, looking amused. "Sam's told you about me, then?"

"Actually –"

Dean didn't let her finish. In a move so fast she didn't see it coming, he had grabbed her wrist and yanked her into the booth next to him. Candi almost screamed, but Dean put a finger to her lips. "Alright, sweetheart," he breathed quietly in her ear. "I don't know where the hell Sam is, but I know he was here. And I know it was because he was after you."

Candi tried to calm her beating heart enough to process what he was saying. "Let me go," she said in a low voice, "Or I'll report you to management."

"Your bosses are the least of my worries," Dean said, but he leaned away from her. He still had a tight grip on her wrist. "Now listen carefully. You're going to come with me, and you're going to do so quietly. Otherwise you're buddy here…" He pulled out his phone and swiped the screen, revealing a picture. "Is… well, he'll be toast."

Candi stared at the screen, feeling nausea creep up her throat. The picture was of a blonde adult male, tied to the chair. Blood ran down his nose and the side of his face. His blue eyes were wide and frightened.

Isaac.