CHAPTER SIX
Merlin, the optimist he was, thought things were going fantastically. Considering the events that have occurred and he thought they could actually get through the whole shebang without any murder having transpired. That was, until HE arrived.
Merlin wants this noted. He is a patient person and he is willing to forgive and forget but there are some people that he just can't stand and HE is one of them.
Hold on, he should probably explain.
Okay so just after everyone had told their tales of how they had arrived they all decided it was probably best (Dean and Sam were pissed that there were no 'compooters' or whatever). But they had just about to start reading when an obviously tired voice rounded the shelf of dusted books.
"Sherlock!" A short man growled. "Where the hell are we?"
There was a tut and a bored voice in reply. "John. Obviously we have travelled somewhere back in time. Really, have I taught you nothing."
There was and frustrated huff. "Sherlock, you are talking time-travel! It doesn't actually exist, or have you started to believe all of Mycroft's conspiracy theories."
"Please John, do you count me stupid? No don't answer that, you know I'm not." There was a breath. "And time travel is perfectly logical as long as one has the right instruments."
"Sher-"
He froze when they noticed the others in the room.
All eyes turned to the newcomers.
"The hell are you?" Dean and Sam asked in unison.
"Who are they?" John asked and then noticed the look on Sherlock's face and immediately regretted it.
"Well," Sherlock started with a smirk. "How about we start with the three obviously from America judging by their accents unless there are faking it which I highly doubt because in the business they work in, they have not needed to fake accents."
Everyone froze.
Sherlock continued. "The two flannelette wearing men are obviously well acquainted-most probably related closely judging by the unison talk and the fact the older one is sitting slightly in front of the other, obviously out of protection, whether or not it was intentional. Their line of work is obviously dangerous as they both carry multiple weapons on their bodies-you can tell by the changes in the line of their cloths around the lining of their jeans and the bulk in both jackets. Probably guns or knives. The older one-" He points to a frozen Dean. "-has spent most of his life looking after the younger one which can also be told by the way he is protective. A normal friend or brother wouldn't tend to that kind of reaction at the slightest hint of danger especially when both have proceeded their thirties. So what can we conclude from this? That obviously they were together for a long time, almost every second from a young age which begs the question why?"
Noticing the look on the American's faces, John guessed something huge was about to go down and he growled quietly. "Sherlock!"
But Sherlock didn't listen the arrogant sod.
"Something must've happened when they were younger, something involving the parents. The father?" He judged their reaction. "Ahh, the mother then. Maybe she cheated on her husband maybe she die-"
And that's how far he got before Dean was up and punching the dick in the face. Sherlock stumbled back as the man stepped forward again and launched another punched, a raging fire in his green eyes.
It took three punches, two others holding him down and John drawing a gun to stop the man in his onslaught. His fists were bruised and he snarled as he glared at Sherlock's bleeding and bruised face.
"You fucking sonuvabitch. You must think you're so high and mighty with all of your smart-talk but really your just as stupid as anyone here." His voice was low, and dangerous. He was obviously not dealing with anybody's shit. "Don't you ever mention anything you have jst said or I will kill you."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "You sure? I don't think you have it in you?"
Dean grinned, it wasn't teasing or triumphant, it was just cold and menacing. It was terrifying. "And that's why you're as stupid as the rest of us. Dean Winchester, look me up."
And with that, he was storming out of the library, his whole body tense with thunderous rage. The men who had been holding him back gave John and Sherlock the filthiest looks and took after him.
There was a tense silence.
Kiara stepped forward in front of Sherlock, smiling at John and then sadly looking at Sherlock. "I love you Sherlock, like a ton, but that was a really dick move. Like that was horrible." She turned to John. "Please can you talk to him."
Brit came up behind her. "Those three guys have been through a helluva lot. Like they have saved the world, and in this universe or not they deserve everyone's respect."
Olivia also stepped forward. "And we know you're you Sherlock and you gonna cock it up anyways but just please tone down the deductions. You will never be able to understand what they have been through."
They all turned pleading eyes on John. Kiara nodded. "Just talk to him."
John, understanding the urgency and sadness in the girl's eyes, and even though he had no idea who they were or what was going on, he decided to agree and do what they asked. "I'll try."
And he grabbed Sherlock's sleeve and pulled him out of sight.
The three girls turned to the rest of the group.
"Okay," Olivia sighed. "Let's get back to work!"
And just like that, Merlin knew he was going to have trouble with Sherlock. He was proved correctly when he came waltzing back in, not a care in the world but John was nodding behind his back in confirmation.
Merlin tentatively relaxed as they all set to work. Sherlock was still annoyingly smug but had dialled down and only spoke to his companion John. Merlin was quite glad for it.
Dean was pissed, Sam noted as he spied his brother sitting at the giant castle doors. His whole body tense with emotion. Scratch that, Dean was fucking raging. And Sam understood why. That great bag of dicks had just waltzed in the room and announced half of their lives, one of the most painful times of their lives. He didn't remember it, he was too young but Dean did. How could he forget? And after all this time and after all they've been through, Dean still hasn't tried to move on. Sam knows Dean is emotionally stunted to the point where it's embarrassing but he also understands why. Dean doesn't do emotions and "feelings" because he knows that if he starts, he wouldn't be able to stop. If he begun ranting on and on about what is going on inside his head, Sam knew Dean would probably explode with all that's swirling in that head. But the bad side is that Dean will let almost anything get to him if it involves family. And he's not just counting him or Mom or Dad, but Bobby, Cas or Ellen and Jo. Anyone speaks a word against them, Dean Winchester will lose it because it's the only thing he has to keep him going.
Family is the only thing that keeps Dean going forward. The only thing keeping him from killing himself.
Sam may have some issues (okay so a lot of issues) but he knows Dean is worse. Dean has taken beating after beating from Dad, from Cas and the angels, even from Sam and it's worse because Dean had let that nestle into is skin. He had clung to a lost sense of worthlessness and depression and it's been growing and growing until Sam can see nothing but the strain and complete exhaustion in his brother's eyes.
Sam's terrified that soon, Dean will give up. That soon, Dean won't care anymore.
He dreads that day more than anything.
But for now he follows Cas and sits by his brother's side and hums in the comfortable silence.
Dean huffs but croaks out. "I almost broke my hand on that guys fucking cheekbones."
That startles a laugh out of Sam and he glances to his brother. "Well you punched him hard enough."
Dean gritted his teeth and a muscle in his jaw twitched. "He was being a bitch. He deserved it."
"We could always get Cas to smite him. Can't we Cas?" Sam grinned over to the angel.
A small smile tugged at the end of his lips. "I am sure I could arrange something."
Dean chuckled and became serious for a moment. "You guys are awesome."
"And don't you forget it." Sam smiled.
