Fire, Ice, and Rage Inside (A SuperWhoLock fanfic)

by MinionAmongMooskateers

The Winchester boys are in London following a lead on the demon Crowley. But, when they run into two boys from baker street, they realize that things may be much more complicated than they first thought. With Crowley and Moriarty working together to free Lucifer from hell, the boys are forced to join forces as well as call on the help of a strange man who's known only as The Doctor

3. Chapter 3

"Dude, I haven't slept that well in years," Dean said, stifling a yawn.

"You don't say?" Sam said, smirking, as he hailed a taxi. He gave the cabby the name of their hotel and slid into the back beside Dean. "So, Cas showed up on the plane."

"What?" Dean said, brow furrowed, "When?"

"When you were passed out."

"We were in midflight, Sam. The dude has trouble tracking us when we're on the highway. How'd he know where we were?"

"Bobby gave him our flight number and I think he must have guessed where we would be," Sam said, thinking it best not to mention Dean's unconscious call to Cas.

"What did he want? And why didn't you wake me up?"

"You said yourself, Dean, best you've slept in years. I didn't want to disturb you. And Cas said he knows we're going after Crowley. He wants to help."

Dean paused, nodding as he thought of the benefits of having Cas on board. "Good. Who knows, angel radio might just come in handy.

A little while later, they found themselves in a hotel. One a great deal cleaner than they were used to. Dean especially had been overjoyed at the unstained mattresses. And after depositing their small bundle of belongings into their rooms, Dean insisted they change into their "FBI" suits.

"Come on, Sam. It's simple. We change, we head over to Buckingham palace..."

"Scotland Yard," Sam corrected.

"What ever. We go and we see what we can get out of the locals."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Dean, I don't think the FBI has much of a pull around here."

"So?" He replied. "It can't hurt. And you said it yourself, we're flying blind here."

Sam couldn't disagree. But unlike Dean, he hadn't slept on their flight at all. He felt horrible and wanted nothing more than to fall back against one of the surprisingly clean pillows and forget everything for a few hours. "Okay, you're right. It can't hurt. But, it's late. We'll go tomorrow."

Dean, though rearing to go that very second, could tell his brother was spent. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

And as Sam fell drifted off to sleep, Dean began shuffling through the the articles Babby had given them.