221 B BAKER STREET. NOW. -SH

A ring indicating a text message.

COME IF CONVENIENT. -SH

"Okay, good." Dean rolled back in his bed and placed his cell phone on the night-stand.

Another ring.

IF INCONVENIENT COME ANYWAYS. -SH

Dean groaned and grabbed the mobile again. He looked at the message and sat up in the bed.

"Sam." He looked at his brother in the bed next to his.

Sam snored and turned his back at his brother. Dean replied to this by throwing his cell-phone right at Sam. The phone hit Sam and he woke up in a jolt.

"What the hell, Dean?!" He exclaimed.

"Read it." The other brother told him, standing up and walking to get a shirt.

"Sherlock?" Sam asked. "Why does he want us at Baker Street?"

"Hell if i know." Dean found a Metallica shirt and put it on. Now he had to find jeans and socks and he'd be set.

"He realizes we're in America, right?" Sam rubbed his eyes and sat up on the bed.

"Probably." Dean answered.

"And that there's a time-difference." The younger Winchester continued.

"Yup." Dean agreed.

"And that it's 4 in the morning." Sam threw the phone at Dean.

Dean caught the mobile in his right hand. "Yeah."

"So we're just going to drop everything and go to London?" Sam recapped.

"Yeah." Dean answered unhappily.

"Why?" Sam smirked in shock.

"Because I owe him one." The oldest brother replied.

Sam sighed and grabbed some jeans from a drawer. While this happened, Dean cocked a handgun that he got from under his pillow, he was now fully dressed with untied shoes.

"That was a long time ago, Dean." Sam told his brother, finding a plaid shirt on the floor.

"Yeah well, i don't want him holding it against me forever." Dean sighed.

"I don't think Sherlock would hold it against you forever." Sam began to button the plaid shirt.

"Sammy, it's Sherlock we're talking about." Dean reminded. "He has that... Mind castle or whatever."

"Mind Palace." Sam corrected.

"Yeah, whatever. Point is: he'll remember that I owe him. It doesn't matter when but he'll remember." Dean began to tie his shoes.

"And he'll remember that you didn't pay him back." Sam finished.

"Exactly." Dean stood up, both shoes completely tied. "I don't like owing people, Sam."

"Yeah, i know." Sam replied, grabbing socks.

"I hate it." Dean mumbled.

"I know." Sam sighed.

"Almost as much as i hate Sherlock." Dean grumbled.

"Yes, we have established this." Sam smiled. "You know, maybe you should let him off easy. It may have not been anybody's fault."

"No." Dean walked to Sam and pulled up his sleeve to reveal a giant scar on his forearm. "This is my fault, Sam. It's all on me. Sherlock was cocky and a dick but he helped and for that i still owe him. But it was my fault."

Sam looked at his brother and pulled his arm back. "Don't blame yourself."

"Well, I do." Dean opened the motel room door. "Grab your things, meet you in the impala in 10." The door slammed shut behind the older Winchester.

"Whatever you say, Dean." Sam sighed as he grabbed his laptop bag from his bed.