Notes: Nothing too upsetting in this chapter. Unless people standing around talking upsets you, or Dean's BF Cas continuing to let everyone down makes you sad. Both of these things bother me, so I have decided that Casey hangs around for a while after her season 12 return, because I like her. Yay!

"Um ... Castiel?" Sam said, his eyes closed. This was awkward. Cas didn't like him all that much, for one. For another, every time they needed his help they were reminded that Cas was fighting a war. Fighting a war. Grand terms like that. "Dean is in some trouble. And I can't help him. So we need you."

Nothing. No sound of wind rustling fabric or bird's wings flapping, so Sam opened his eyes and looked around. Nothing. He closed his eyes again. Maybe he was doing something wrong. "Castiel? Please. Dean's in jail and there's no way I can break him out. You're the only chance we've got."

Still nothing. Shit. He sat down on the bottom bunk of their hotel room. He had called Bobby the second he'd arrived at their hotel, and Bobby had groused and complained and questioned his and Dean's mental capacities, but then admitted that they'd done what they could. "Sorry, kid, I got nothing. Have you tried calling Cas?"

And so here he was. He briefly entertained the notion of turning himself in - they'd broken out of prison before, after all - but it probably wouldn't be all that difficult for the police to connect the dots and keep him and Dean separate. Breaking out together was one thing. Doing it separately was something else.

His phone rang. It was a 212 area code, but he didn't recognize the number. Was it Marie? They'd given her his number earlier that day when they spoke to her.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Is this Layne?"

"Who is this?"

"It's ... Detective Olivia Benson." She sounded different than she had before, tense and nervous. Less like a cop.

He hung up anyway, swearing. She called back immediately.

"If I wanted to arrest you, I'd have our tech unit tracking your phone. I just want to talk to you."

"About what? How did you get this number?"

"Marie Pearson. She told me everything," Detective Benson replied.

"Everything."

"Even the stuff about ... her baby. She told me that you and your partner are just trying to help."

"Uh-huh."

"I think I need your help."

"You mean you need me to turn myself in," Sam scoffed.

"No! No. Marie told me about the nightmares she was having. And how they started. And they sound a lot like nightmares that ... that I'm having."

"Okay. Tell me about them."

"I'm at a payphone. Can we meet somewhere to talk?"

"Yeah, this doesn't sound like a set-up at all."

"It's not."

"Look. If you're having these nightmares too, you're in danger. You saw Angela and Emily. But how do I know you're not lying about this?"

"You don't," she admitted. "I'm calling you from a payphone because I didn't want this call to show up on my phone log. I'm trying to protect you. If you don't help me ... I don't want to end up like Emily and Angela and Marie."

He sighed. "Alright. Where's this payphone? I'll meet you there."

They called in Novak. It had only been a few hours since Elliot had brought in their perp but all they could get him on was resisting arrest and impersonating a federal agent. Which was nothing to scoff at, to be fair, but there was no connection they could find between him and the deaths. Since they didn't know who he was, there was no apartment or workplace to search, therefore no warrant she could get for them.

"So what do you need me for, exactly?" she asked.

There was a collective shrug. She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them, and looked at Elliot. "You couldn't get anything out of him?"

"Nothing."

Casey sighed, looking into the interrogation room. The man seemed perturbed. He sat in the chair they'd given him, probably the wobbly one, his eyes closed. His lips were moving. "And what did he say after you left the room?"

"We couldn't hear it all, but we definitely heard the words 'divine intervention,'" Elliot replied.

"Maybe there is some kind of cult activity," Casey said. "We should call Huang in for a psych eval."

"Better than nothing," Elliot said. "You put in the order, I'll give him a call after Olivia talks to him."

"Where is she, anyway?" Cragen asked, checking his watch. "Awful long time to be questioning Marie Pearson."

Elliot nodded. "I'll see if I can get her on the phone."

As she waited for the man who was probably not named Layne, Elliot called. "Shit," she hissed, and quickly tried to think of an excuse for why she was taking so long.

"Hey, Liv," he said. "Is everything okay?"

"Yep," she replied, trying to sound casual.

"Oh, good." He paused, and Olivia knew he was waiting for some explanation. "You sure? We were just wondering where you were, could use your help questioning our buddy in the interrogation room."

"Yeah, Marie suggested someone I could go talk to, someone else who was having the same kind of problem she did."

"Anything new?"

"Not really. Dead end," she said.

"Okay. We were gonna get Huang in here after you talk to our perp, so." Hurry up, was the implication.

"Yep, sure." She nodded, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable and awkward she sounded. "See you back at the house." She hung up, not waiting for his response.

She sucked in a breath through her teeth. Well, that went well, she thought, kicking herself. She'd sounded about as convincing as a kid who'd been caught up past her bedtime. She'd have to play it off later, talk about how crappy she felt later.

But that was something to worry about later. Right now she saw her slippery perp from earlier. "Here's the payphone," she said when he got nearer to her. "Give it a call."

He took out his cell phone, hit a few keys and held the phone up to his ear. The payphone began ringing seconds later.

"That doesn't really prove anything. There could be an entire squad waiting to jump me."

"I know. Thanks for meeting me."

"So you've been having nightmares like Marie's?"

"Yes. I have to be quick. Let's go into this coffee shop." She led him into a coffee shop a few stores down from the payphone and ordered two coffees for them, paying with cash. They sat at a table next to the window and Olivia said, "Look, can you tell me your name? Your real one. Just a first name, something that sounds more believable than Layne."

He tore open some sugar packets and said, "Sam."

"Sam. Okay. I'm Olivia."

"Tell me about your nightmares."

She told him. She described the loud sounds, the smoke, the form attacking her that had started off vague and nebulous and that had quickly become more corporeal. "And I'm so tired during the day now. I don't know what to do."

"That sounds exactly like what those other women were dealing with."

"When I talked to Marie, she said. She said she needed an exorcism." Sam nodded. "What did she mean?"

Sam looked puzzled. "Well, you know what an exorcism is, right"

"Well yeah, but do you think she's right?"

He seemed hesitant to answer, but then nodded.

"So we're talking about demons here?" Olivia said, laughter in her voice.

"We don't know yet. But it looks that way," Sam replied, completely serious.

"Oh my god," Olivia said after a moment. "Okay. I can't. This is crazy. This is why Marie told me to call you?"

"I know it's hard to believe."

"Are you two part of some kind of cult or religious group or something that would explain why you're feeding me this bullshit?"

"No!" Sam said, clearly frustrated. "This is what we do. We find monsters that hurt and kill people and we get rid of them. And this is some kind of monster, I'm telling you."

Olivia shook her head. "You're delusional. And I'm losing my fucking mind talking to you, I should be taking you in," she said, mostly to herself. Sam scooted his chair back from the table, watching her carefully. Hell, he'd gotten away from her once, he'd probably do it again. "I have to go back to the precinct. I have to question your partner."

He was almost grimacing as he told her, "Stay in touch, alright? I know you don't believe what's happening but it's the truth. Your nightmares are going to get worse, and more vivid, and after a few weeks you'll be pregnant. Maybe I can help you stop it."

Olivia stood up. "Am I going to hear the same thing from your partner?"

"Maybe. If he talks to you at all."

"Then maybe he'll have a chance at an insanity defense."