Wichita Lineman

"By the time I get to Phoenix, she'll be rising..." rang in tinny stacatto out of the little am/fm radio. The only thing worse about this day for Barry was his companion who was singing along. The voice was beautiful, but he hated this hick crap.

"She'll find the note I left hanging, on her door. She'll laugh when she reads the part that says I'm leaving..."

Barry's hand went to the silences .45. tucked in the body sheath on his chest. This was a stupid assignment, but when someone stiffed big Ricky, well, you went where he told you and offed who he told you to off.

Barry, who very rarely felt anything for anyone, kind of liked the man he'd kill soon. Joe Williams had done nothing except picked the wrong job for the wrong employer. Unfortunately that would put him in the witness category and that would mean he would have to die.

Big Ricky liked to invest in contractors. Those guys made money and paid their bills. It was a good laundry for the dirty money Big ricky's family traded in. But Angelo Embarta had decided to forego that deal and to tell Big Ricky where to shove it and so, with his Mexican cartel friends protecting him, Embarta had made himself a hard target.

SO now, under cover, Barry waited to put an end to Embarta and prove, once and for ll, that no one was bullet proof.

And poor Joe was just a casualty. He got to supervise the temp because he was such a good employee. He had a wife that he talked about almost incessantly. He was, on some weird level, the kind of guy Barry had always wanted to be. Just regular, you know?

No human, not even most deities could have predicted the circumstance of events about to unfold. And honestly, they probably couldn't have stopped them, because no matter what. Barry was going to pull that trigger.


Just this morning Joe had been singing to Denise in bed. She tried to get up and make him breakfast be he found he had no will to release her. And yes, it had been Glen Campbell. Her very favorite. Such a coincidence. Turn on the radio and their song had been playing. She sang it sweetly in her ear and then gently kissed her neck. He recalled thinking there was no place he'd rather be.

Now with the new guy behind him, he worked on the phone wiring in the walls of the old hotel they'd been fixing. He'd worked for the cell people but this gig paid more and kept him home, no traveling, not volunteering during disasters. Just home every night to Denise and the baby they were expecting.

He heard Angelo outside, right on time. Knew the click of his heels on the concrete outside. The gunshot, though, that was new, shattering.

He heard a gasp and the fall of a body as he was turning around, caught the briefest glimpse of muzzle fire as he reached out and grabbed the wires that protruded from the wall. Phone wires, bare and corroded. Electrically wire in no better shape. Adding insult to injury, the heavens chose that moment, or perhaps the confluences of events called into being, a bolt of strange heat lightening. It surged through the wires and into Joe.

And two deaths raced toward him, one accelerated but combusting black powder, the other coursing at the speed of light for his heart. The two forces collided in Joes' body and kept him alive just long enough to feel the burning, and the hallucination of Denise's crying form beside his coffin. And then blackness. There is dead and there is not dead. Joe found himself falling somewhere in between.


Three years later.

Denise Williams fingered the gold band that hung on a chain around her neck. She couldn't bare to wear it in the widow position and she couldn't bear not to wear it and so it hung around her neck, like an albatross, like joy despoiled and luck turned black and fetid. Like love struck dead.

She wiped down her last table and collected her last tip and clocked out of the greasy spoon she worked in. Angelo Embarta's family owned it and felt bad for her. They took care of her. Noble theives, she thought of them, but beggars couldn't really be choosers and what was left of Joe's insurance was in an account for Amelia's college.

She walked out to her car, her breath coming in puffs of smoke and she realized she had forgotten her coat as the icy wind pulled at the thin polyester uniform. She turned around and went back in.

"You're phone's ringing." Esmerelda Embarta told her. She winked at Denise as she said it and moved to the counter to take payment from a customer.

Denise rushed to her coat and pulled out her phone. She hoped it wasn't the baby sitter.

"Hello!" She breathed into the phone.

There was silence and then an ominous static. The words that came through were thready but she had no trouble making them out. She'd heard them a millions times a million good times.

"I am a lineman for the county
And I drive the main road
Searchin' in the sun for another overload."

Her soul seized. Hope, cruel and sharp filled her for just a fraction of a second. Then rage. How dare they…

"This isn't funny." She barked into the phone, her voice hitching with powerful emotion. Esme came to her and put her arms around her.

"Honey? You ok?"

"Tell them, baby. Tell them it ain't over." A voice said. She recognized to voice of course, had since the first note of the song. She wasn't sure of anything else, but she was sure of this. It was Joe's voice.

"I don't know how you're doing this you son of a bitch, but it's not funny. I loved Joe more then breath..."

The line went dead. Denise collapsed to her knees and bent into a fetal position, unable to do more then catch her breath between deep, burning sobs.


The phone of Richard "Big Ricky" Tutioni rang. His nephew, Salvatore looked up at Ricky. Ricky nodded and the kid brought the phone to his ear. It sparked and burned the shit out of the kid. He gasped and dropped it to the floor, slapping his hair to put out the small fire. The two goons in the room leapt up and grabbed him, putting the fire out with a pitcher of water from the desk.

"It's bad boss. He needs to go to the hospital." Ricky, who seemed completely non plussed, waved his hand in ascent and they rushed the boy out of the room.

When the room was silent, Big Ricky stood from his leather executive chair and walked to the phone. He kicked it with his toe and it flipped over. The unit was black and some of the plastic was melting.

Big Ricky was old and had gotten that way by knowing the difference between fate and intent. Someone had just tried to kill him. But who and how.

It was ok. Ricky would find out. He always did.


Esme counted the till. She divided it and put part in the official ledger, the rest in the secret one. Old habits ran deep. Her uncle Angelo had taught her well. The second ledger was for the family. It went to a fund to pay certain individuals that Esme didn't know, but those people were paid to keep Esme ignorant of a lot of things.

And to keep those things ignorant of her.

She had been her uncles favorite. And that was why she had been the first on the scene of his death, the one who cleared up all the inconsistencies. The one who moved in to keep the widow from asking too many question.

Her phone rang. She picked it up. Before the current fried her consciousness she thought she heard music. The cheesy sixties shit they played in cheap restaurants.

And then she was dead.


"I have something." Sam said in that uncertain way of his. More a question then a statement.

"What is it?"

"Weird more than anything. Two people, one an electrical burn from a cell, the other a death."

"Sunspots?" Dean queried.

"Doubtful." Castiel offered. "Sunspots cause delirum, not electrical surges."

"Good to know." Dean returned.

"No, Dean, you should be able to send that kind of current through a cell phone, unless there was a lightening strike. And I check, nothing with NOAA."

"Well, I'm bored to tears here, it would be something to do. Where is it?"

"Not far, Wichita."

"I'll get my bag."


"OOO look there is a botanical garden." Castiel said deeply engrossed in the "Visit Wichata brochure he'd found in a rack at the front of the cafe.

Dean rolled his eyes and snagged the brochure out of Castiels' hands. His eyes grazed it as he did.

"We're hear on a case, not to… ooo, Old Cowtown museum..."

Sam shook his head at them and took the brochure as the waitress came over. On her shirt a badge proclaimed her "Denise."

"You read to order?" She asked with a sad smile. She wore a black handkerchief tucked in the top pocket of the polyester waitress dress.

"Why yes we are, pretty lady." Den said with his best grin. "I'll have the triple threat chili cheese burger with a side of chili rings. And a large milkshake."

"And some Warfrin." Sam muttered. Denise chuckled. "Is that chef's salad any good?"

"Have you seen the chef?" She joked. "Stick with the cold plate. The fruit is canned, but everything else is locally sourced."

Sm smiled and nodded.

"And you?" She asked Castiel.

"I don't eat anymore." He offered. She gave him an odd look and walked away.

"Can't take you anywhere. Just once could you act like a person?" Dean chided.

"Apparently not. It's not my fault you humans insist on complicating the simplest of diatribes with subterfuge and innuendo."

"What did you just call me?" Dean asked playfully. The waitress returned and put down drinks.

"Be a minute on that burger. They're knocking the horns off the cow." She said brightly.

"Well, just show it the flame and bring it out." Dean offered back with a bright smile.


"De!" Someone behind the counter called. Denise turned around. Another employee held up cell phone and the waitress blanched. All three of the boys caught it and exchanged a glance. She walked quickly, tightly to her coworker. She snatched the phone away and they exchanged a few words. With finality, Denise ended the conversation. As the other waitress left, Denise popped open the case of her cell phone and took out the battery. She then threw both pieces into the trash. She steadied her trembling hand.

Cass nodded the Dean and Sam echoed him.

A minute later, her hands trembling less, Denise came back to the table.

"You ok?" Sam asked.

She forced her smile brighter. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Well, you look like you saw a ghost." Dean offered. And Denise almost dropped a plate in Castiel's lap. Only his angelic reactions saved him a crotch full of burger and chicken salad. He deftly leapt out of the chair and rescued both plates putting them on the table, and he guided her into his chair.

Had she been paying attention she might have noticed the super human quality of his stunt.

"I'm fine." She insisted. "Our boss died..." She offered.

"Yeah, we're hear investigating it." Sam offered and slid the fake ID out of his pocket. She looked at it for a minute and nodded.

"Why?" She asked. Es was just a person. Oh, her family..." She said and then quickly silenced herself.

"What about her family?" Castiel asked. She stood and straightened out.

"Nothing. They got money, you know. Can I get you anything else?"

At that moment, a phone rang, a distinct ringtone a song from some far away summer. "Glen Campbell." Denise turned white and ran for the back of the cafe.

Sam, Dean and Castiel stood and followed her, as Sam passed the trashcan he took out the phone. He showed it to the others as it continued to ring. It had no battery.

They moved into the back of the restaurant.


Big Ricky sat in the back of his Limo. His cellphone had long ago been thrown out the window. They stopped at a red light. Moveing was important when you were being hunted. And he was. He had a good idea by who.

Soon his Sister would be here and that witch would know what to do. Not just to stop the hunter, but to capture him and maybe even put him to good use. An assassin who cold move through phones would be useful. Hell, invaluable.

In the car next to him, the phone rang. He knew the ring tone. That shitty song the douche who worked for Esmarta had listened to.

The owner of the phone looked perplexed. Ricky thought to maybe lean out the window and warn him, but the chance to see what happened was far too interesting.

The man put the phone to his ear and let out a shriek. Ricky smelled the ozone and burning flesh.

He had never wanted anything as much as the lineman before in his life.


Dean got to Denise first. She was vomiting in the alley. He leaned down beside her, offered her a napkin.

"You can tell me." He said, gently. He put a hand protectively on her shoulder.

"You won't believe me."

"You will be shocked at what we believe." Cass offered. He slid up on the hood of her car and let his legs dangle. The car barely reacted to his weight.

Sam held out the phone with no battery. "We aren't really FBI."

"Really, Agent Sambora?" She said with a little irony. He smiled a little, amused with her.

"I'm Sam, this is Dean and that's Castiel. We're hunters."

"What do you hunt?" She asked.

"The usual, Vampires, werewolves, ghosts… Like the kind that talk to people through powerless phones..." Dean said.

She looked at them.

"I'm only technically hunter. I'm really an angel." Cass offered with his guileless eyes burning into her.

"An angel?" She stuttered.

"Not a very good one." Dean offered.

"Dragged you out of hell." Castiel threw back.

"OK, guy. Too much. Give her minute to digest. Are you alright?"

She let out a somewhat hysterical laugh. "Sure, I'm here with vampire hunters and an angel talking about the ghost of my husband whose haunting me on the phone. I do this all the time." Her knees went out from under her and Sam caught her, lifted her gently into the air before she hit the ground.

Suddenly, the phone in his hand got very hot, he dropped it and almost Denise. As it struck the pavement, the phone spluttered and burst into flame.

"Jealous?" Dean asked. Sam nodded and put Denise down, wrapped his singed hand in a handkerchief.

"I think there are a lot of issues there." Castiel offered and hopped deftly off the car. "We need to get her somewhere safe."

"I don't think she's the one in danger." Dean offered.

"But just in case, somewhere without phones." Sam said and he escorted Denise back to the Impala.


Fury filled the blackness, lightening strikes of fury moved into the void and found purchase in the sky. Joe was lost and frightened and angry and a hundred other things. Dark clouds filled the sky over Wichita. Thunder rumbled and lightening struck, mystifying meteorologists all over.

"That cannot be good." Dean said looking out the window of the motel at the darkening sky. "Is that him?"

"Castiel," I am unaware of a spirit having that much raw power, however, there might be some circumstance that would explain it.".

Sam handed Denise a soda. "How did Joe die?" He asked.

"It was weird. Look, I need to go get Amelia." Sam looked puzzled. "My daughter." She added.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Dean and Cass can go and get her."

"DO you think she's in danger? Joe would never hurt her..."

"I don't think Joe is in control right now." Dean offered. "Where is she?" He grabbed the keys to the Impala off the table.

"The babysitters. Please keep her safe." She thought for a moment. "Are you really an angel?" she asked Castiel. He nodded and for a moment let his grace shine. She gasped.

"Yeah, it's less impressive at two in the morning when your trying to sleep and he's using it for a night light," Dean retorted and Castiel dimmed his light. He stuck out his tongue at Dean.

Castiel put his hand on Denise shoulder. "I will guard her with my existence." He vowed and he and Dean took their leave.

"I still don't believe this." She said as the door closed.

"Yeah, I can imagine it's a lot."

"Did you have trouble getting your head around it?" She asked.

"I was born into it. My family have been hunters for generations." He looked at her gently, his eyes full of compassion.

"You remind me of him. Joe was a good man. I don't mean just like good. I mean, kind, strong. Healthy, you know. Not crazy. Level headed. He did what was right even if nobody else agreed with him. He was a real hero. He worked the lines for a long time, and he was always saving animals caught in fences and lines. Nothing was too small for him to care about. He was pure. Like your angel. Like you."

"How did he die?" Sam asked, holding her eyes with his own. His hand went unconsciously to her's comforting with it's hugeness, and warmth.

" Love of my life." She sighed and looked away. "He was working for the local honcho, Mr. Esmarta. The official story is that Joe was electrocuted in a freak lightening strike. But the truth is different."

"How so?"

"Angelo, Mr. Esmarta had borrowed some money from a Vegas money launderer. He was supposed to clean it with interest. But he made a deal with a cartel and double crossed the big guy. That guy sent a hit man who shot him. He shot Joe, too, and Joe was doing some line work in the hotel they were fixing, and the lightening struck."

"Wow, that's…"

"Yeah. I always figured Joe was too good for the world and some jealous devil took him. Nobody dies like that, right?"

"Well, I can find out..."

"Beg pardon?" She asked, taken aback.

"Never mind. Stay here, I'm going outside to make a call. I unplugged the phone and put it outside so you should be fine. I'll just be a minute, but yell if you need me."

She nodded. Sam stepped outside and dialed Dean.


"Yeah Sammy?" Dean said as they turned down the street toward Denise house.

"You need to call Crowley." Sam blurted.

"Why, what did he do this time?" Dean asked. Cass gave Dean a questioning look. 'Crowley'. He mouthed. Cass nodded but his eyes narrowed.

"Joe didn't just die. He was shot, struck by lightening and holding n electrical cord."

"I think I saw that in one of the "Final Destination" movies."

"Yeah, and I'd like to know who took such an interest in a guy from Kansas."

"I should point out we're couple of guys from Kansas and we been getting our asses kicked for 30 years or more..."

"Yeah, makes you wonder." Sam said.

"I'll talk to Cass and Crowley. Keep her safe. I'll grab the kid and we're on the way home."

Castiel saw the house first, his eye sight keener. more animalistic them Dean's.

"There is trouble." Cass offered and launched out of the car. Thankfully it was only going 35 and he wasn't a person. He landed on his feet and dashed across the lawn, vaulted a fence like a show horse and disappeared into the front door before Dean could pull over.

Dean reached over and his hand landed instinctively on the .45. He popped the dash and took out the bowie and moments later was on the porch. Inside he heard the sounds of a struggle.

Dean kicked the door and moved into the room, Bowie in one hand, gun in the other. It took Dean a minute to realize he was dealing with humans, not demons. It was a fight in slow motion for him, and took only a moment to knock the two assailants unconscious. He leaned over one of them, guy in an expensive suit that was almost laughable Soprano-esque. He sighed as his eyes moved over the floor to the dead babysitter. One to the back of the head. Just great.

Castiel had disappeared and returned with the little girl in tow. In the angel's arms she was sleeping, curled, but her face was wet with tears.

"Did you?" Dean wiggled his fingers indicating magic. Cass shook his head.

"Children love angels. Surely you've heard the song about angels watching over them?"

"That's a thing?"

Castiel shrugged. At that moment, the phone began to ring. The familiar ringtone.

Cass and Dean looked at one another. "Should I get that?" Dean asked.

"I have the child..."

"Fine," Dean sighed and gingerly picked up the phone. He hit the answer button and then quickly the speaker button. He then dropped the phone. Static growled out, growing louder and louder.

"We aren't your enemy!" Dean yelled. And the phone fell silent. He looked at Cass who nodded. "We want to help. We want to protect them. But your freaking Denise out. Let us handle this, ok?"

There was silent and then the explosion of lightening coming from the phone. The couch was set ablaze.

Dean and Castiel fled with the baby in tow.


"We need to not use phone." Sam offered. "Yeah, ok." He hung up and looked at Denise. "They have her and are on the way back." He offered. She looked at him gratefully.

"She's ok?" She asked, anxiously. He nodded and decided not to mention the rest. She relaxed and fell back into the chair.

"How much do you know about Joe's past?" He asked.

"His parents didn't marry. His dad disappeared when he was a kid but his mom's family had money and raised him. He had a good childhood and lots of friends. He went into the military, but did communications. No combat. Joe was gentle."

"Nothing weird?" Sam ventured.

"Just his accent." She smiled.

"Accent?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, Joe was from New Orleans. His family was creole. From way back, "before the war of Northern Aggression" he used to joke."


"Squirrel, did you miss me?" Crowley purred into the phone.

"No."

"Don't be bitchy. You need a favor..."

"How do you know?" Den growled back.

"You never call just to chat anymore. So, what have you gotten yourself into this time?"

"Guy named Joe Williams in Wichita Kansas."

"What about him?" Crowley asked. He was only half listening to Dean. He was watching Game of Thrones and someone was about to die.

"He was shot, electrocuted and hit by lightening all at once."

"Well, seems he was better at pissing people off then you." Crowley answered, but this was interesting. That kind of overkill meant something. Something big and perhaps profitable.

"Yeah, well, who the hell was he?"

"Dunno, but I'll do some digging. And of course you'll owe me." Crowley offered.

"Well, if we're keeping score, I saved your worthless ass last time. I distinctly remember saying You owe me."

"Fine, I'm a demon of my word. It's my only virtue and I loathe it. I'll get back to you." Crowley hung up. Gunplay, electrocution, lightening. One could assume they the electrocution and lightening were separate sources. This had the feel of a lesser pantheon gambit. Crowley vanished in a puff of acrid smoke to parts lower in the cosmos then New York City.


Denise wrapped her arms around Amelia. The little girl was almost two, at that adorable, awkward stage. She broke from her mother's embreace and toddled back to the angel. She pointed to him and pointed, laughed.

"Bird!" She said, and Dean laughed.

"Dodo." Dean offered. "Can you say Dodo?"

Castiel threw him a vicious look.

"DODO!" Amelia shouted, still pointing at Castiel. For a moment the room knew levity and then it faded.

"So, now what?" Denise asked.

"I don't know. Dean. Joe was from Louisiana. He was Creole."

"So, what are we thinking? Loa?"

"Best guess." Sam offered.

"What did Joe tell you bout his family?" Dean asked.

"They had money, he was estranged from them. He loved them but they were overbearing. He just wanted a normal life." She offered.

"I bet." Castiel said. Amelia was trying desperately to climb into his lap as he sat on the bed. He lifted her and began to bounce her on his knee.

"You're going to make a good father some day." Dean offered.

"Shut up." Castiel returned.

Sam looked up, shocked. "Wow, finally!"

"I am taking your example." Castiel replied to Sam.

"Enough." Dean said. "SO, the Loa are involved. Who do we call?"

"Is Benny around?" Sam asked.

"Yes, I believe he is courting." Castiel said.

"Courting?" Sam asked.

"Yes, he seems to have some interest in Sheriff Mills..."

"What?" Dean said, standing.

"One crisis at a time." Sam reminded. "Call him."

Dean nodded and took out his phone. He dialed but got voice mail.

"Great, I got the only vampire with a social life..." Dean groused.


Crowley walked into the library and was greeted by Boriel, a lesser librarian.

"Oh, former greatness, shadowed out buy heaven's fallen light, bringer of sadness, what might I do for you?" He asked.

"You can shove that right up your arse. I'm not here for veiled insults. I need information."

"And how might the bibliothecam ab inferno serve the former king of Hell today?"

"Boriel. I am down for the moment, but Lucifer is insane. It's only a matter of time before he fucks up and then you will be kissing this arse again."

"The dark one misunderstands. I am a librarian. I crave order. But, the walls have ears, if you know what I mean. So tell me, Crowley, and quickly."

"What pantheon puts gunplay, electrocution and lightening in different hands?"

"Odd, I had thought you quite close to them?" Boriel said suddenly. Crowley pushed hard on the urge to bite his nose off his face.

"Spit it out!"

"The Loa, of course. They create a new loa every time humans invent something."

Crowley smiled. He knew exactly who to talk to and with the old man, talk was cheap.


Benny finally answered the phone.

"'Lo Brother!" He said cheerfully. In the background was a sound like machinery.

"Where are you?" Dean asked, yelling over the phone.

"I'm working on a road crew. I'm picking roses." He said.

"Well, good work if you can get it."

"No, they's a rose bush they're gonna cut down. I'mma collect 'em in my truck and take them to..."

"Don't say it."

"You know, who'd a thunk an old crook like me would fall for a law lady."

"Yeah, we'll talk about that later. For now, I need your help."

"Speak the word only, brother." Benny offered.

"I think we got Loa issues. There was a guy and he was killed a few years ago, electrocuted, shot and struck by lightening. He was from your neck of the woods..."

"My neck of the woods? I did rub off on you, Yankee."

"Yeah, whatever. Loas?"

"You know how I feel about them."

"We all feel that way."

"What was his name? Them families don't really hide who they work for."

"Joe Williams?" Dean offered.

"I ain't never met a cajun named Williams. Hell, I never met anyone from Louisiana with such a name. Maybe he changed it?"

"Was Williams his real name?" He asked Denise, who sat on the bed with her sleeping baby on her lap.

"I don't know. I found some papers once, what was the name on them. Lamartini..."

"Lamartiniere?"Benny asked loudly enough to be heard in the room.

"Yes. He took the papers and threw them away."

"Well, I'll be dipped in pig shit, you done stepped in something."

"It's their modus operendi." Castiel muttered.

"The Lamartiniere family are big news in the West Feliciana Parrish. That there is the woods, by God. No more than 15000 stalwart souls. It's bayou. But they got the power. And they ain't real friendly to outsiders. They in tight with the Loas. Especially Sogbo and Agau..."

"Let me guess. Lightening gods."

"On the nosey. You need me, Brother?"

"No, I think we got this. But thanks…."

"Call me if you need me."

"Don't bite my sheriff..."

There was a chuckle on the line. "She sure does smell delicious." Benny offered and hung up. At that moment, Dean's phone began to melt in his hand. Dean dropped it.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean roared.


Crowley stood at the crossroads. He opened the bottle of rum and poured a little out. He felt the air change when Legba appeared.

Old, dark skin in counterpoint to snow white hair, the old loa crossed the road.

"You slumming?" Legba asked.

"One a crossroads demon..."

"I done thought you'd moved on to better things."

Crowley handed the bottle to Legba. The old Loa took a long swig. "You know what I like about you? You always got the best hooch."

"Why waste time with anything else?"

"You ain't here for reminiscing." Legba said.

"Joe Williams. Killed bu gunshot, electricity and lightening..."

"You are misinformed. Joseph Lamartiniere, but that's a long time past as humans reckon."

"He's raised his ugly head."

"Well, can't keep a good man down." Legba chuckled.

"What's the story?"

"They got to have a loa for everything these days. Humans keep making shit. Loas go through the flesh."

"What's he Loa of?"

"You watch the world. It's got a web these days, and all them cell phones connecting. I don't even think what he's the Loa of is borned yet. But it's coming fast..."

"He's the Loa of the internet!?" Crowley laughed.

"He's gonna change, Crowley. And anyone on his side, well, they gonna be in tall cotton..."

Crowley nodded and turned to leave.

"Hey!" Legba offered him the bottle back.

"Keep it, and I own you another."

Legba waited until Crowley was gone. Then he smiled and finished the bottle.


The plane landed and a tall woman got out. There are lots of kinds of witches in the world and this one was called a Strega. Her magic was strong. She loved her family.

She sat in the limo next to Ricky.

"So?" she asked. He told her the story. The more he said, the happier she became. She got it. Ricky didn't but that was ok, she'd look out for him.

"I need some things. I need a computer, a cell phone and this list of herbs." She handed Ricky the list. He nodded. "Now, I need to go to my hotel and shower, it's a long way from Roma..."


Crowley appeared in the hotel room. Denise squealed as he did and Castiel stood protectively over her and Amelia.

"Not to worry your pretty little halo. I come in peace." Crowley offered. His eyes moved over Denise like the hand of a lecher. She visably recoiled. He stopped at the little girl. There was something there. Something not entirely human. "You must be the wife." He said in his most ingratiting voice.

"Crowley.." Dean warned.

"Well, she's fragile for a woman who was married to a loa." He offered.

"She... what?"

"I am told Loa's come through the flesh. I didn't press for details, though I like the sound of that, don't you, Squirrel?"

"I see calling you was a mistake." Sam said.

"Moose, I didn't see you there. Are you shrinking?"

"You know what, Crowley..."

"OOO, be careful, there's a child present. Language Moose. I'm here to help."

"And I have some beach front property in Kansas for you." Dean replied.

"Kansas is landlocked, Dean..."

"Cass..."

"Oh, wait, I get it. Carry on."

Here was the tricky part. He had to give Dean just enough information that he'd be believed and hold out enough that Dean couldn't figure out the relevance of this situation. And how to steal the child. That was a given. She, he could tell from her aura, was something that was still dreaming in the murky dreams of humanity. Something really powerful. She was the prize here.

"It seems this Joe was actually the Loa of the internet. That religion is so literal." He shook his head. His eyes flicked to Dean's. Yes, he was buying it.

"That doesn't Tell us how to stop him from killing people." Sam offered.

"Has he killed anyone we actually like?" Crowley asked. They all glared at him. "Just a thought.."

"Perhaps if Denise talked to him. He loves her..." Cass offered.

"No, too dangerous." Sam said.

"I'll do it." She said and stood, sliding Amelia to the bed beside her.

"No, Sam's right..."

"He's my husband, Dean. No matter what else. He was the kindest, gentlest person I ever knew..."

"And now he's a psychotic forces of nature…." Dean met her eyes and cleared his throat. "I mean that in the best possible way, of course."

"He's still Joe." She said. "He's still my Joe."

They exchanged looks.

"OK, Sam go get a burner." Dean said.

"Not a fortuitous moniker, that." Crowley said.


The room was all set up. The phone was plugged into the computer and set inside the containment circle. It was bone dust and grave dirt. The candles had been seeped in corpse blood. This was older then VooDoo, steeped in Muti, dark gods who craved pain.

She began to sing an old song, she cut her hand and killed the right sacrifices.

Ricky sat across from her with his chief henchman, Rocco.

"Where does she get this stuff, boss?"

"Stella's always been a little wacky..." Ricky said.

"Not to insult you, Big Ricky, but a little?"

Ricky cut his eyes to Rocco. "You can go."

Rocco fled the room, grateful to be away. Rocco was a hard man, a murderer. But this was too much for even him.


Sam handed the phone to Denise.

"So, what do I do?" She asked.

"I wish I knew." Sam offered.

At that moment the phone rang, the familiar ring tone. She dropped the phone with the suddenness of the sound. Played for a long moment.

"I hear you singin' in the wire, I can hear you through the whine " She whispered and picked up the phone. She turned it on and put it to her ear.

"Joe?" She said, her voice a tremble like a leaf in the fall, shivering in the cold wind.

There was static. And then words.

"Denise? Where are you, where am I?" He said. His voice was milk and honey to her ear, balm to her broken soul. Tears fell, hot, long held, tears of sorrow and joy, and of futures not to be.

"Joe, I love you." She said through the emotion.

"I love you too, honey. Someone hurt me. I'm in the dark."

"It's ok, honey. I'm here. I won't ever leave you. Joe, you have to stop hurting people."

"I just get some angry. I..."

The static erupted again and she made a sound like the ripping of heaven's shroud. Castiel reached forward for her, held her least she fall apart.

"What?" Dean demanded. He took the phone from her. "Joe! can you hear me. What's happening. How can we help you!"

The moment was there, the child was abandoned, all the players in the room were focused on the phone, on the father, on the crisis. Crowley could take the girl and go. He moved to her as fast as he could without being noticed. He was so close, reaching out, soon away and…

Damn Dean Winchester to the lowest pit! He looked at Crowley and it wasn't the fact that he was caught that infuriated him, it was that look, that pleading, puppy dog, good guy look. Crowley sighed.

"Fine." He huffed and vanished. "And damn me for caring." He added.


The magic was rising in the room, sickly green and smelling of something primitive. Ricky could not have remembered it in a million years, but his reptile brain did and was disgusted beyond tolerance. He stood to leave the room.

A flash of fire and the smell of Brimstone, a welcome relief from the repugnant odor of the Muti magic. A man in a business suit stood before them. Ricky's first thought was to inquire after the man's tailor. It suit was impeccable.

Crowley reached over and without ceremony pulled out the gun Ricky kept in his holster. He turned it on Stella and pulled the trigger three times, though a seasons pro like Ricky knew it was overkill.

Crowley handed him the gun back and then, nonchalantly picked up the cauldron which was filled with a green smoke, a different green from the magic on that was alive and wild. Crowley nodded to Ricky and, cauldron in tow, vanished.


"Joe! Joe baby, please!" Denise plead into the phone but it was dead, not just the dial tone, but the battery was completely discharged.

Sam took it from her gently and Dean leaned over her shoulder.

"Denise." Dean whispered.

"No, I'm fine. I got to hear him. That's more than I thought I'd get. I'm being selfish." She said through tears.

Sam rubbed her shoulder. "No you aren't. He was taken from you. All he wanted was to be with you. Life is unfair. That's an understatement. Life is a knock down drag out kick in the crotch and then you died and some angels give you a fake heaven for your reward. It sucks. But it's ours. Don't you dre give up."

"Why not?" She asked.

"Because that's what they want you to do. It pisses them off if you keep fighting the good fight."

Castiel nodded.

Crowley appeared in the room, without the cauldron.

"Witch. God I hate them." He said.

"What?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"A witch was trying to capture him. I shot her."

"You… shot her?" Denise asked.

"Yes. Kind of enjoyable, actually." Crowley offered.

"And Joe?" Sam asked.

"Rescued and sent to wherever her was supposed to go."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Denise hugged Crowley who rolled his eyes and tolerated it.

"This is why I hate being around you people. All touchy feely." He vanished, leaving Denise holding nothing but smoke.

"You believe him?" Sam asked.

"Not as far as I could spit him." Dean offered.


Crowley stood at the crossroads. He put the cauldron down and slid the bottle of rum out of his armpit. He poured some on the ground.

Legba appeared almost instantly. He looked at the cauldron and at the demon.

"If I never see'd one before, there is a creature with an angle." Legba grinned. A gold tooth show from behind the snowy scruff around his mouth.

"I believe this is one of yours." Crowley said.

"And what you want for it?" Legba asked.

"Can't old friends help each other?" Crowley asked.

"You never had a friend in your life. Or your death for that matter."

"Well, there you'd be wrong. But that's neither here nor there. I know the Loa, well, you to be a creature of your word. And you take your debts seriously. And let's be honest. I'm sort of low on allies these days."

"You should join us. I got a spot for you." Legba offered.

"Sorry, I don't want to pay union dues." Crowley said. "No, this is a favor for you. And for him. It's a big one too." Crowley said with a slight smile.

"I'll pay you twice for the little one." Legba offered.

"Goods I haven't acquired yet."

"Yet." The Loa echoed.

"Well, I have places to be." Crowley offered.

"You got places to belong, too. Remember that."

Crowley nodded and walked off into the misty crossroads.


It had been three months. Denise had changed her name and settled somewhere undisclosed. I will keep her secrets like the Brothers Winchester do.

She pushed Amelia on the swing and watched as the first of Springs birds winged their way across the sky.

Her phone rang. As usual, there was a mild shock, a little fear, a little expectation.

Just a regular ring tone. Probably work.

She pushed the screen and the call window opened.

She was met with music.

"And I need you more than want you,
And I want you for all time
And the Wichita lineman is still on the line.

Wichata Lineman. Glen Campbell.