SUPERWHOLOCK FANFIC

CHAPTER 1 – DEAN

Dean dreamed he was back in hell. Or had that last blessed 24 hours just been another dream. He had lost count of the amount of times he had dreamed he was back with Sam and Bobby only to wake up in the pit again. He turned in a circle. The place was empty. Not a soul in sight, literally. All was silent, only the sound of his shoes crunching the dirt beneath his feet could be heard. He started walking forwards, straining his eyes for and hint of an object, straining his ears for any sounds. Then after wondering for about 10 minutes he heard it, a whisper on the wind, barely audible. The hairs on his neck stood straight up. He stopped in his tracks then heard it again, this time he heard a name.

"Dean."

He turned so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash but there was still no one there.

"Dean?"

The voice was louder now, closer, rising in intensity.

It seemed to be coming from behind him. He turned on his heal and ran forwards eyes and ears in hunting mode.

"Dean!"

It was getting closer still. Dean stopped and looked around. He should be able to see the owner of the voice, it sounded as though it was right next to him.

"Dean." The voice said again, breaking with relief. He felt a touch on his shoulder. He turned; nearly head butting the guy in the face.

He was tall. Wearing a suit and a trench coat smeared with dirt and ash so it blended in with the grey of the surroundings. He eyes shone blue in the empty desolate surroundings. The face lost some of its tension as he looked at Dean.

"You're okay." He breathed.

Dean took a step back.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The man's face went slack for a moment; the eyes lost their blue, becoming almost black. A look of profound hurt crossed his face.

"You don't remember me?" he asked, his voice was a whisper.

Dean felt a shiver run the length of his spine. He didn't recognise the man that stood before but something told him he should. Something told him he had seen this guy before, he owed him his life.

"Sorry. No. I don't."

The man's hard features reasserted themselves.

"Probably just as well, less complicated this way."

The man paused before fixing his eyes back on Dean.

"Listen to me. I know you don't remember me, but you have to trust me. I don't have much time to talk, sending you back topside took nearly all my energy, I can't appear for longer than 5 minutes and we need longer than that.. You are in danger, Dean, you and all of humanity. A new threat is coming, worse than Lilith, worse than Azalel. I need your help; I'm not strong enough to appear in your world. I need an energy boost. The only way I can help is if you meet me in Cardiff city centre on the 21st of July. There is a rift there, I can use that to get to you, but its closed, I need someone the other side to open it. Please help Dean, I know you have been through hell, literally, but I just need you to do this one more thing." He broke off, his voice crackling, his form faded slightly.

"Hang on a sec, slow down."

"No time." The figure groaned, "I can't... "21st of July, please... have... trust me, please."

Dean ran forward trying to grab the man's arm.

"Wait, you say trust you, how can I, I don't know you."

The figure looked him straight in his eyes, the blue shone in the dim red light, remaining although most of him had disappeared.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." He said, "Now wake up, you dont have long." He reached out and touched Deans arm.

"Remember, whatever anyone says, I am your friend."

Dean felt a searing pain on his arm and awoke inhaling lung full's of blissfully cold air. Sam was standing over him, his hand on his arm.

"You okay?"

Dean looked around him trying to make sense of his scrambled thoughts.

"What's the date?" he asked breathlessly.

Sam raised his eyebrow, then looked at his brother's face and decided he had better answer.

"July 19th," then looking at his brother's stricken face added, "Why?"

"Crap...We've gotta get to Cardiff in Two days."

Dean floored the impala; it was a beautifully straight road, nothing in front, nothing behind. He rolled down the windows feeling the cool air play across his face, and turned up the music and finally, after 36 hours being back topside, felt himself relax. He was back where he belonged, in the front seat of his beloved Impala, on the road with Sam in the passenger seat. He turned to look at his brother, he was smiling at him.

"What?" he asked frowning.

"Nothing," Sam grinned, "Just so glad you're here and safe."

Dean smiled back at him. He allowed himself a few moment then turned back to face the road.

"Okay enough of the mushy, lovey-dovey crap. We're on a case here."

Sam sighed, Dean was back to normal.

"Okay, Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean replied, fighting back a grin.

"Okay" said Sam turning serious. "So were on a case. We are going to Cardiff, in the UK, to meet a guy with blue eyes who claims to have rescued you from the pit. Even though you don't remember him or know the slightest thing about him."

"Yeah, that sounds right," Dean said, staring through the front window at the road ahead. "Why, is there a problem?"

Sam cleared his throat. "No, but it's just weird don't you think, a guy asking you to let him into this world, how do you know he's not just gonna grab you and take you back down with him. I just got you back Dean, I can't lose you again."

Dean turned this time to face his brother.

"Look, I know it sounds weird, but I trust this guy, even though I don't know who he is, I feel like I owe him something, at least a chance to explain what's going on, and if he does try and take me back to the pit, then let him try, but I sure as hell aint going anywhere, I only just got back, I have to have at least a couple of dozen burgers and pies and beers before I get taken back down there without a fight. Don't worry Sammy, you aint getting rid of me that easy, I learned a trick or two in the pit, there isn't any way they can take me back, trust me."

Sam nodded mutely and went back to reading his notes. Dean reclined back in the driving seat, mouthing his way through the song on the cassette tape till a sudden thought dawned on him. He sat bolt upright, so quickly that Sam dropped the entire book of notes he was reading.

"Crap!" he exclaimed, slapping at the steering wheel.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, bending to retrieve his notes.

"We've gotta fly!"

Sam said nothing, just cracked up.

"What's funny?" asked Dean, an edge of panic to his voice.

"You've spent four months in hell and you're still scared of flying."

Dean swatted him and rubbed his now clammy forehead.

"Oh crap!" he muttered weekly

Sam chuckled to himself and settled back in his seat to read the notes. It was good to have his brother back.