Becky placed the cup of tea in front of Orison and waited expectantly. After a few moments of hoping she would just go away, he looked up at her and then sat back, shoving the laptop to one side.

"Do you need something?" he snapped. He had an unpleasant feeling she was going to ask a question he did not want to answer.

"No. I just… Why did we do this?" she said hesitantly.

"What, tip-off Castiel?" Orison shrugged, trying to seem relaxed, and ran a hand through his soft, chestnut hair. Becky's fingers twitched. "I owe the Men of Letters a few disappointments."

"Oh," she said. "Then it wasn't about Sam Winchester?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth Orison could see she wished she could retract them. He stiffened and he could feel his face was hardening.

"We've had this conversation before, Becky," he growled at her.

"I know," she said, looking disappointed.

He did not have time for this right now. Dismissing her with a wave of his hand, he said, "I have to post this case. Look upstairs for the Gospel of Apelles, will you? I need it to answer a question on the forum."

She sniffed unhappily but did not push it further. He ignored her and returned to his work.

Sam scanned the list of new posts on TheRoadhouse subreddit. He told himself he was just looking for a new case, or a lead on Lucifer but when he saw the post entitled "Demons in Mason City?" with Orison's flair attached to it, he couldn't resist.

Classic demon case here, Roadies. Or is it? A woman shows up at her church bearing all the signs of stigmata. But then she's apparently whipped by an invisible force and begins speaking in tongues. Check out the story in the local paper: story/news/crime/2016/09/25/woman-dies-church-stigmata/94417664/

That's all I've got for now. I'll update when I've done a bit more research.

Sam clicked the link to the newspaper article, but it didn't have any more information than was in Orison's post. Dean ambled into the room at that point, sipping coffee and holding a danish in his left hand.

"Hey, where'd the pastry come from?" Sam asked.

"I went out and filled up the car. They were selling boxes of them in the gas station. There's still some left in the kitchen," Dean mumbled around his full mouth. He nodded at the laptop screen. "Anything interesting?"

"Not sure," Sam hedged. He summarized the case to Dean, who nodded and listened but his face was sour. "OK, it's a little thin. But we've gone after thinner. So what's the problem?"

Dean's eyebrows rose. "I'm not sure I'm as interested in the case as finding out who this Orison guy is." He dropped into a chair and gave Sam a direct look.

"I can see that," Sam said. "Why have you got it in for him anyway?"

"Nobody gets the drop on Cas. But he knew exactly where to find him, and sent Becky with a message that conveniently told us where you were being held and gave her the power to take down those wards." Dean replied. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if Sam was going to be receptive to his theory. "I think he wants us to find him."

"I don't agree," Sam admitted. "If he wanted us to find him, why play games?"

"I don't know. We don't even know if it really was Becky," Dean said. "But if it was, I don't think it's a coincidence. Has anyone met him? What about the other hunters on the forum?"

Sam shook his head. "No. He's a complete enigma. A few of them have spoken to him on the phone, but there's no clue there. He didn't have a distinctive accent or unusual voice. There's even a speculation thread about him, believe it or not."

"I don't suppose any of the theories sound plausible?" Dean said hopefully.

"Not that I can see," Sam replied. "Well, OK, that's not quite true. Like I say, he knows a Hell of a lot of lore. So much so that there have been theories that maybe he's not human. That would explain why he's determined to stay hidden and how he knows so much."

"A monster, helping hunters slay other monsters?" Dean said incredulously.

"Is it that unbelievable?" Sam asked. Dean's mouth pursed and he knew he'd made his point. "But there's no real evidence. It's just idle talk."

"And assuming it is the Becky Rosen, how did she get tangled up with this guy?" Dean asked the very question that had been bugging Sam since Cas had first described his encounter with her.

"That's a good question," Sam agreed.

"I'll be honest, Sam. I'm getting a seriously creepy vibe about this."

"Why?" Sam asked. "I mean, I'm not exactly thrilled he was able to track Cas down even if it did mean you found me. But, so far no harm no foul."

"I can't explain it," Dean said finally. He scrutinized Sam for a few moments, long enough to make Sam more than a little uncomfortable. "Have you been in contact with him directly?" he asked.

Sam blinked in surprise. "He's answered a few questions I've posted on the subreddit. But we've never corresponded or spoken on the phone."

"Why not try and draw him out?" Dean suggested and Sam almost swallowed his tongue.

"How?"

"See if he can get a bead on Lucifer. Let's see how good he really is." Sam shook his head. "Why not?"

"Because if I start posting about Lucifer being loose on the world again, people are going to freak. And if they think we're responsible, we'll be fighting off hunters every step of the way."

"I didn't mean come right out and say it," Dean defended. "Surely there's something you could post that would only mean something to someone really knowledgeable."

"I'll think about it," Sam said. But privately he thought it would be a mistake.

"Magda will be OK, you know," Dean said, giving Sam a friendly shove as the bus pulled away to take her to her new life. "She seems like a good kid."

"Yeah," Sam agreed but he didn't seem happy. Dean hated being the one to force the issue but Sam seemed disturbed and there was no obvious reason why.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "It's just a general… bad feeling."

"Not one of your psychic visions again?" Dean said jokingly, ignoring the squirming feeling in his gut. "Magda didn't rub off on you did she?"

"What? It's not like the flu, Dean," Sam said impatiently. "No, this is more like instinct, you know. Like we're being watched." He looked around cautiously. "And sometimes, it's like someone's listening."

Dean's senses went on full alert. "It's not impossible," he said. "Those Brits could be spying on us. Have you seen anyone suspicious?"

Sam shook his head. "No. It's more nebulous than that. I can't explain it. But maybe we could sweep the car for bugs? Remember the time Crowley spied on us that way with an enchanted coin?"

"I'd forgotten about that," Dean said, feeling stupid. "We can do a sweep, that's a good idea. We've been letting that kind of thing slide. But let me know if you get any more of these feelings, OK?"

"Yeah, OK," Sam agreed. He watched as his brother leaned his head against the car window, letting the motion lull him into a doze. Dean's mouth pursed with concern. He needed to talk to Cas, ASAP.

Back at the bunker, there was still no sign of the angel. Dean sighed and roused Sam, sending him off to bed before grabbing a bottle of bourbon and a glass. He poured in a generous measure and toasted himself before taking a large mouthful.

Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text to his mom, and as an afterthought, an invite to play Words with Friends. She'd always enjoyed crosswords and other puzzles as he remembered, so maybe she'd get a kick out of that. He opened his laptop to log into Reddit. It took him only a few moments to find the subreddit Sam had alluded to. He browsed a few posts, laughing at some of the anecdotes and even answered a question about skinwalkers. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, another post by Orison. It was a few months old and was referring to a strange case in Connecticut.

Check this out, Roadies. Gotta weird one for you. There's an old religious theme park out near Waterbury, CT - the Holy Land USA. Closed back in the 80's. It was a not very accurate recreation of 1st C Jerusalem. Anyway, 2 kids went missing from Waterbury and were found crucified on crosses in the park. See node/2394 . Sounds like a serial killer except for a couple of things.

The coroner can't figure out how they died. There are marks of switches on their hands and buttocks but these were not the cause of death. The victims didn't know each other and disappeared from their homes around the same time. Nobody knows how the killer got the kids out of their homes, there were no signs of forced entry, all doors and windows locked.

Nobody had ever responded to the post and Dean wondered if it had ever been checked out. He hesitated for a moment and then typed a quick comment.

Did anyone ever look into this?

He went back to browsing the latest posts but it didn't take long before he saw Orison had responded to his message.

Hey JimmyPageIsGod,

Luthersfool81 and WendigoBandit headed up there to see what was what. They never reported back. I figure whatever monster's responsible for the kids' deaths got them too, but if it did, it was real subtle about it.

Without more information, it's hard to know for sure what's going on. And there haven't been any more killings. I'll keep an eye on it and keep you posted.

Dean grimaced and logged off. Whoever he was, this Orison was certainly giving off all the vibes of being a white hat. He finished off his drink and pulled out his phone. Two rings and then Cas answered in a strangely breathy tone.

"Dean."

"Hey, Cas. You busy?"

"Yes," the angel said. "Well, no. We're on a stakeout."

"We? You and Crowley are on a stakeout? Sounds like fun." Dean couldn't contain his mirth at the idea of the angel and the demon in a car together, irritating the Hell out of each other.

"It is not fun," Cas said witheringly. "What do you need?"

"OK, look, Sam's having some weird… instincts." He heard Cas's indrawn breath. "Not visions, nothing like that but, I'm worried, man. We met this psychic kid, don't know if she was one of old yellow-eyes', but it's got me on edge."

"Of course," Cas said sympathetically and Dean found himself feeling better already. "I think you're overreacting, but I understand why. I can look into it when I get back."

"OK. OK, that would be good," Dean said. He thought for a moment, not wanting to explore why he wanted to keep Cas on the line. "You OK?"

"I'm fine," Cas assured him. "I'll be in touch as soon as we have news. Sleep well, Dean." He hung up and Dean stared at his phone for a moment. Cas probably didn't want Crowley listening in to their conversation, but he was a little put out at how abrupt the angel had been. He sighed and refilled his glass.

Mary entered the kitchen and made straight for the bourbon, pouring a couple of fingers into a glass and sitting down opposite her son.

"Talk to me, Dean," she instructed. He looked away. "Dean."

"Look, it's just Sam and his weird feelings. It's probably nothing. It's just… he's had nothing. Not a twitch of a vision or anything in years. And then we run into a psychic, maybe one of old yellow-eyes brood and suddenly he's getting 'instincts'? I don't trust it."

"Then don't," Mary said easily. "But unless he actually starts behaving strangely, maybe it's nothing more than he says it is." She sipped at her drink and looked thoughtful. "You wanted to talk to Castiel about it."

"Yeah," Dean said. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," she replied. "I'm just beginning to understand how much you rely on him, that's all."

"He's my best friend," Dean told her. "He's practically another brother to me."

"Another brother, is it?" Mary said, sounding amused. She didn't dispute the point so Dean wasn't sure why it was making him defensive anyway.

"We've been through a lot together," he said. "I'd do almost anything for him."

"No, I get it, I do," Mary said. "It's just… well, he's not human, Dean."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that. His motives, his understanding of the world, even his emotional states are totally alien." She grabbed his hands and stared into his eyes. "I'm not saying don't trust him. You obviously can trust him and he clearly cares a great deal about you. And Sam. I'm just saying, you can't pretend he's something he's not."

"He's my best friend," Dean repeated.

"I know," Mary said sadly. He wished he understood where she was coming from. "You do know I love you, that I'll always love you? No matter what."

Dean felt the vague stirrings of alarm. "Is something the matter?" When she didn't answer, he swore. "You're leaving."

"Thinking about it," she corrected. "I haven't made a decision."

"Dammit, why?"

"Dean, try and understand. I was in Heaven, where I was happily married to a man I loved and who loved me, and I had two sweet little boys who were my entire world. And then I was ripped out of there and dumped here. The world has changed since I've been gone. My loving husband went mad with grief and turned himself and my boys into hunters, something I desperately wanted to avoid. And you and Sam, you're men. All those years I missed-" She broke off and shook her head before swallowing her drink. "It's just a lot to take in. And you want me to be this apple pie mom that I never was in real life. Don't you understand? It's tearing me apart!"

Dean just stared at her, dumbstruck. All his life, he'd have given anything to have his mom back again. And now she was saying she didn't want him, didn't want to be part of his life? He didn't know what to say.

"Hey," Dean said, turning the laptop around on the kitchen table. "Check this out."

Sam gave his brother a side-eyed glance. Dean had been angry when their mom had announced her decision to leave, and this was the most civil he'd been in two days. He leaned forward and squinted at the article on the screen from a small newspaper in Pennsylvania.

"Centralia Fire Worsens Again," he read. He vaguely remembered Centralia was a ghost town where a mine fire had started sometime back in the sixties and continued to burn even to this day. How this was interesting to Dean was unclear. "So?"

"So, read the article," Dean said impatiently. He got up and started pacing, sipping at his coffee and watching Sam. Sam poked his tongue out at his brother and then turned to read the article.

"CENTRALIA, PA. Today, Luke Green, a geologist with the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Protection, said that temperatures in monitoring boreholes have increased significantly in the last month in direct contradiction with the reports over the last few years. The PDEP is concerned that after a period of relative tranquility, the fire is beginning to intensify again and that blaze may pose a threat to nearby areas. Recent electrical storms related to the current heat wave are being posited as a possible source of additional ignition, as wildfires have swept through the county."

"OK,", Sam said slowly. "I don't understand what's so interesting."

"Click the next tab," Dean instructed.

"ASHLAND, PA. Authorities say they have no leads in the recent spate of cattle mutilations which have plagued the county over the past month. Ashland Sheriff Joe Chapman says that despite an extensive police operation including surveillance and an anonymous tips line, they have very little evidence and no new leads and are making a fresh appeal to the public to report anything that might help lead to an arrest."

Sam frowned and without prompting, switched to the final tab.

"MT CARMEL, PA. The FBI today reported that they were making a fresh appeal for witnesses to the mysterious deaths of six teenagers after a school football game last Thursday. Special Agent Rachel Wiggs told reporters that all autopsies were now complete but that the coroner had been unable to establish a cause of death. The students were all attending a post-game celebration at the home of celebrated Mt Carmel High School quarterback, Joel Winterbourne when neighbors reported screaming. Seventeen-year-old Misty Morgan, the only survivor of the night's events, remains in a permanent catatonic state and doctors say they have no idea if she will ever recover. Her mother, Councilwoman Alicia Morgan told this reporter that she had arranged for Misty to be transferred to a clinic in Switzerland for an experimental treatment but that she did not expect Misty to be talking anytime soon."

"Cattle mutilations, mysterious deaths and a curious intensifying of the Centralia Mine Fire. Demonic omens? You think this is Lucifer?"

"Maybe," Dean said. "Cas and Crowley were trailing him in Ohio. Pennsylvania's right next door."

"It's a big state," Sam pointed out. "You wanna go check it out? It's at least a twenty-hour drive."

"Yeah, well, I'm tired of sitting around with my thumb up my ass," Dean said wearily. "Now, let's get going!"

Sam stared after him as Dean stomped out of the kitchen. He really wasn't sure there was a case here but it was better if Dean redirected his aggression into a case that turned out to be nothing than taking it out on Sam.

Becky placed the tray on the table next to Orison and he looked at it disdainfully. Grilled fish, vegetables and a baked potato steamed merrily on a plate. He didn't want any of it.

"I'm not hungry," he said childishly.

She put her hands on her hips. "You've barely eaten today," she chided him. "You can't live like this."

"Get me some candy, then we'll talk," he said grumpily.

"Eat some proper food and then you can have one candy bar," she bargained.

"One!"

"Yes, one. You know the drill by now. If you sit around eating candy all day you'll get fat and all your teeth will rot out of your head." Her face softened. "I know it's hard. But you've been so good. Why are you backsliding now?"

He glared at her. "You know why."

She sighed, shaking her head in sympathy. "Nobody understands better than me. You know that. Now, eat."

Grumbling he shoved his laptop aside and grabbed the tray. He stabbed a piece of broccoli and stuffed it into his mouth whole. Becky laughed at him and then stood, collecting a mug from the table in front of him.

"Aren't you eating?" Orison asked her indistinctly through a mouthful of food.

"Of course," she told him. "But I ate lunch so it's a bit early for me. I'll make something later."

He chewed contemplatively for a moment. "Is there anything else?"

"No," she said slowly. "Well, maybe. It's about Castiel." He raised his eyebrows at her. "He followed the lead you sent him. Seems he met an old friend who's on the same trail."

"Castiel doesn't have old friends," Orison told her. "Who was it?"

"My source didn't know," Becky said. "Some British guy with a beard."

"That's not much information," Orison sighed. "Tell your source to get a photo. Or I don't know, draw me a picture. Something. I need data, Becky."

"On it," she said.

As they drove past the aging, slightly run-down cemetery, Sam craned his neck to see if he could detect any signs of the mine fire.

"You'd never know there was anything going on here," he commented.

Dean waved a hand at a side road that was unlabeled and any road markings were long gone. "Except, that road doesn't exactly look well-maintained."

"Yeah, but you see that all the time in small towns. Especially in mining towns all over the US. The industry's dying and the towns that grew up around it are dying too." Sam said.

"And this is town's dying more than most, but other than pavement, there's not much else to see."

"What's that up ahead?" Sam asked, pointing to a small square building as they approached.

"That must be the municipal building," Dean said. There was a motorcycle outside with a For Sale sign on it. "Huh. You wouldn't think they'd get much passing traffic." Dean pulled the Impala into the lot in front of the building. They got out and walked up to the door. A handmade sign said "Geologist on duty: Luke Green. 360-555-3837." The door was locked. Dean looked at it for a moment. "Worth breaking in?"

"I doubt it," Sam said. "The geologist is probably out doing his readings."

"OK, what now?"

"I think the church is this way," Sam said, peering at his phone and pointing.

"You wanna go to church?" Dean said in surprise.

"No, but it seems to be one of the few buildings still standing. Maybe there'll be someone there."