This one's shorted again 3 We're starting to near the end now, just a little bit left. Thank you and enjoy
Sam's cheek felt cold from resting on the cold cement floor. As he started to come to he looked around. He was in an old garage, no car in to, but there were old stains in the floor and tools along the wall. Slowly Sam pushed himself up to a sitting position. Sam nearly jumped when he saw Sherlock laying next to him. He was out cold, but at least he was breathing.
Sam started to shake him by his shoulder, "Sherlock."
Sherlock shot straight up and looked over at Sam before glancing around the room and looking back at Sam, "She took us to the garage."
"Yeah. This is bad," Sam started to stand up.
"It seems so," Sherlock agreed and moved so that his back was against the wall.
Sam knew it wouldn't work, but he tried to open the garage door leading outside anyway. When that didn't work he tried to kick the leading into the house, "Dean!" He called out getting no response.
"Why are you doing that when you know it's not going to work?" Sherlock figured Sam was more reasonable, even if he tended to show more sympathy then his brother.
"It was worth a shot," Sam shrugged and leaned on the door.
Sherlock looked him over again, "I see."
"So, why us? Why did she take just us? I can understand why she too you, but me too?" Sam tried to think of a reason.
"There must be some kind of similarity between the two of us reminds Elizabeth of her parents, but what is it?" Sherlock tried to thinkabout everything he knew about Sam Winchester. They were both younger brothers. They both had meddling older brothers. Both of them had ran into trouble attending school, Sam from moving and was a target of bullies, Sherlock would get bored and deduce things about his teachers and classmates. But was any of that similar with both of the girl's parents?
Sam noticed something about Sherlock, something he wished he didn't have experience with. Something about Sherlock just... "I used to be an addict," Sam admitted, causing the detective to jerk his head up at him.
"That wasn't in your records," Was all that Sherlock could think to say.
"Records?" Sam raised an eyebrow.
"With the FBI. You and your brother caused quite a bit of trouble, even before the 'leviathan' incident," Sherlock explained, "Why bring up your addiction now?" He knew why, but he wanted to know what Sam knew.
"That might be the thing we have in common with Cassie and Elizabeth's parents. Both of them were recovering addicts," Sam thought aloud.
Sherlock paused for a moment, "If that is correct and we truly do have a connection with the Masters, the two of us could possible share their fate,"
Dean paced back and forth in Elizabeth's room, trying to think of a game plan, while John swore quietly to himself. Sam's crowbar and shotgun laid on the floor next to his and Sherlock's cellphones.
"We need to find them," Dean finally decided.
John looked over at him, "Agreed," He nodded and looked down at the photos on the floor.
Dean handed him Sam's shotgun, "Here, you'll need this."
"Thanks you," John said taking it. He picked up the crowbar and the mobiles then followed Dean into the hallway.
They walked up and down the hall looking though each room. There was no sign of Sherlock or Sam anywhere. As they started down the stairs, John watched Dean.
"What is it?" Dean could tell John's eyes were on him.
"Oh, umm, sorry. It's just Sherlock had said your father was a marine and he had trained you," John felt a little awkward.
Dean looked back at him, "Yeah. He taught us a lot back when we were kids. Sam said you were a doctor, right?"
"Yes, I was a doctor back in the army, but now I just work at a clinic and with Sherlock," John reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped behind Dean into the living room.
"Man, you really like this kinda stuff, don't you?" Dean looked up the crumbled fireplace.
"What do you mean?" John straightened up slightly.
Dean looked over at him. John had that same look he and Sam had, but with John, something about it was different, "Nothing, it's just that, with most people, seeing the stuff you've seen, would kill to get out and stay out."
"Would you?" John asked without even thinking. Dean paused and looked away, trying to think of a smartass answer. John could see him struggle to answer, "I shouldn't be asking stuff like that, I'm sorry."
"It's cool, man. Let's just keep looking," Dean walked into the kitchen and open the refrigerator, making the door almost fall off.
John stared at the Sam sized hole in the wall, "You did that?" he asked pointing at it.
Dean smiled triumphantly, "Yeah."
That's when they heard the banging.