Hey guys! So, we're reaching the end of the story. It's been quite a ride, huh? I hoped you've enjoyed this story as much as I did writing it, despite how frustrating it was. As well as the hope as it lived up to any expectations you may have had from the first, god help me. It's certainly been interesting.

Chapter 8

John quickly ran through various scenarios in his head. There weren't many ways out of this, but luckily, he was fairly certain each of them could be pulled off without a large degree of difficulty. Provided they can keep their eyes open. "Did you guys see what I saw," Dean said in a low voice.
"That Crowley had the same tattoo as the angels, except larger and more in control looking? Yeah," Sam said.
"Why don't we worry about dealing with Crowley after we get out of this mess," John pointed out.
"It shouldn't be that hard, four angels to deal with," Dean said, his voice full of bravado.
"All right, here's what we got to do," Sam said slowly, carefully moving forward.
"Sam..." Dean started. Sam raised his hand to silence his brother.
"Everyone keep your eyes on an angel. I have this one," he said, pointing to the one in front of him. "Just move forward, carefully, and then move around it," Sam continued, demonstrating as he moved past the angel.
"And then we head into the tunnel, where not all of them would be in front of us," John finished for him.
Sam nodded. "Two is better than four, after all," he added.
Dean frowned. "It'll be harder to see them," he brought up.
Sherlock, who had been silent up until this point, shook his head. "The flashlights and the lanterns left by the demons," he reminded them. "We'll be able to walk with the lights so that we can see them."
John moved forward, watching Sherlock out of the corner of his eye. The detective moved with his usual style, quickly moving out from between the two angels, his eyes on the one on the far left. Dean soon followed, his eyes glued on the one next. John shook his head slightly; making sure his eyes never left the angel on the far right. Moving forward, John held his breath as he walked up the angel. Internally praying for his eyes not to suddenly start itching, John went step by step around the angel.
As he did so, John felt drawn to look into the angels' eyes. The feeling soon passed, but there was a hint of it in the back of John's mind. The feeling disturbed him, but there was something more important to think about right now, so John pushed it away. Dean made it across behind the angels at the same time John did. Sam was watching all four angels, his eyes flickering back and forth, trying to keep two in his vision at all time. Sherlock moved next to him and murmured in his ear, taking on the responsibility of two angels. Dean and John joined them, the four of them each watching their own angel.
"Now, we walk?" Sherlock asked, taking a small step backward.
"Here's what we need to do," Dean said, holding out a hand to stop him. "Two of us need to head forward, make sure we don't run into anything while the other two walk backwards, slowly, to make sure we don't get attacked from behind by those annoying ass angels. We'll switch as the ones behind need to blink, got it?"
The others nodded. Dean's tone left no room for argument. "Good," Dean said. "Sherlock and I will be the ones in the back the first time. Sam, you and John watch us ahead."
They fell into place with an ease that reminded John of his days in the army. There wasn't much trouble with the two guys walking backwards. Once they got the hang on it, their movements were fluid. Sam and John were careful not to walk too fast, so that they wouldn't leave their companions behind. For a moment, John was relieved that they were making it this far. Then other problems came to light.
"How are we going to get out of here?" Dean spoke up. They had switched a bit ago, so he was now walking in front of them.
"Go up the same way we came," Sam answered.
"I don't know if you noticed, but we're not going the same way we came in," Dean pointed out.
There was a pause. "Then I guess we're going to find out what's ahead," Sherlock said softly.
They continued on for a while in silence. There wasn't much in the tunnels. They were exactly the same as the ones that they had come in before. Eventually, however, they began to change. John noticed the air becoming colder, and the ground becoming wetter when Sam slipped on the dirt. Their progress was halted for several moments while Sam regained his balance, muttering several curses. "How long are these tunnels," Sam grumbled.
"I believe we're heading close to the sewers," Sherlock noted.
John tilted his head. "That would explain the moisture," he mused. "But why would anyone build tunnels into the sewers?"
"An escape route," Dean said. The others look at him.
"What?" John asked.
"If you were going to build an escape route, you'd want to have it lead somewhere that no one would expect, not just somewhere safe," Dean explained. "You just said it yourself. Why would someone build a tunnel into the sewers? What if that's what they want you to think?"
"Certainly fits," Sherlock murmured.
"Well, we've nowhere else to go, might as well," Sam shrugged.
They moved forward. The ground became more and more wet, each step becoming harder and harder to remain stable. "It shouldn't be this soggy," John muttered.
They tried to switch again. This time, Sherlock and Dean both slipped, crashing into the walls. As luck would have it, they crashed into the standing two men. All four of them hit the ground, the soil squelching noisily as they hit it. "Crap," Dean exclaimed, hurriedly throwing up his flashlight and checking the tunnel behind them.
The others jumped. "God damn it," John breathed.
The angels, who had been out of sight for the past half hour, were now standing in front of them. "I am never going to get used to that," Sam muttered.
"That's even worse than when Cas gets it into his mind to appear," Dean agreed.
John chuckled to himself despite the situation, remembering the odd angel they had been when they first had come across the Winchesters.
"Let's keep moving," Dean prodded.
The rest were on their feet in a moment. This time their movements were more hurried. After almost falling another time, they started to move slower and more carefully. The angels were soon at the edge of their vision again, but this time, it was much harder to relax into a system.
They hadn't been walking longer when John felt Sherlock and Dean stop behind him. "Well, we found the sewers," he heard Dean say.
John drew in a breath. Judging by the smell, John knew Dean was right. Sherlock moved forward and opened a door. At least, that's what John assumed as he was relying on his hearing. "Come on," Dean helped assist his brother and John inside without letting them take their gaze from the tunnels.
As soon as they were inside, Sherlock swung the door shut and locked it. "Well, that should take care of them for now," John said, relieved.
"We should hope so," Dean breathed.
As soon as the words were out of his mouth there was a loud banging from outside of the door. "Shit," Dean muttered.
"Move, move!" Sherlock pushed the rest of them down the tunnel.
They took off, running down the tunnel. "Where does this lead?" Sam shouted over his shoulder.
"We'll find out!" John responded.
The banging continued to get louder even as they ran away from hit. "Does anyone have any markers or anything?" Dean asked, panting.
Sam shook his head. "They're not in my pocket anymore," he responded.
"Must have fallen out when we slipped or came down here," John wondered.
"Bloody convenient if they were here," Sherlock muttered.
Eventually they slowed down. "You think we lost them?" Dean ventured.
Sherlock shook his head. "Doubt it," he said. "But we may have bought us a decent amount of time while they're either still there or searching for a new way through."
"Then let's not waste it," Sam said. "Let's find Crowley and finish that son of a bitch's business here for good."
"Hell yeah," Dean agreed, clapping his brother on the shoulder before moving forward.
Now that were a decent ways into the sewer and no longer running very, very fast, John looked around at their surroundings. He had never been in the sewers before, and somehow had never expected to, despite what he had already done with Sherlock Holmes. They were much better kept than John would have expected. There wasn't as much dirt and grime around. However, the smell was exactly what he expected.
"You'd think for such a well-kept sewer the smell wouldn't be so bad," Dean noted, voicing John's thoughts.
"Yeah, you'd think," John agreed.
Sherlock didn't say anything. Instead, he moved forward faster, shining his flashlight on the walls. Dean groaned. "Please tell me there isn't some message or something on the walls," he said, pure annoyance and dread in his voice.
"No, I don't believe so," Sherlock reassure him, though his focus was still on the walls.
"Thank God," Dean muttered.
John agreed with him. It would be a whole new level of weird if there were messages on the wall that no one had any reason to believe they were there. "Still," John admitted. "It wouldn't be that much of a surprise."
"You got that right," Sam said.

******

Sherlock walked along, his eyes scanning the walls in front of him. There was something about the way the walls were so clean, so pristine. It was unnatural. No one spent that much time cleaning a sewer, so why were these so perfect? There had to be a reason. Maybe if someone was living down here...but who would live in a sewer by choice? Even a homeless person wouldn't go down here. Beyond the pride factor, the sewers were practically uninhabitable.
Sherlock inhaled deeply, ignoring the smell that came down the various tunnels. He frowned. There was a faint scent of mint by the walls. Almost as if someone had washed the walls thoroughly with mint scented waters. "Strange," he murmured to himself.
"Hm? Sherlock?" John's voice came from right behind him. Of course John was right at his side, as he always was. Sherlock hid a smile as he turned to him.
"Nothing," he said, looking at John. "It's just curious that the walls were so clean, that's all."
"Yeah, it is strange," from John's voice it was clear that he didn't believe him but he didn't press it.
"I'm surprised the sewers could even get this clean," Dean commented. "After years of who knows what coming down here, I would have thought this place could never be clean again."
"The power of soap and water," Sam said.
"What's the point though?" Dean scratched the back of his head. "Why bother cleaning this place up so much?"
Sherlock was faintly amused at how the conversation was quickly mirroring his own thoughts. John was undoubtedly smart, and the Winchesters certainly had intelligent heads on their shoulders, despite what front Dean put out. "Perhaps people just got tired of the smell," Sherlock voiced.
Dean shrugged. "Well, it didn't work much there," he said, wrinkling his nose as wind coming from in front of them brought more of the smell at their faces.
Sam coughed, the noise echoing down the tunnel. "The thing I'm wondering about," he began. "Is Crowley's rune that he had on his arm. Did you guys notice it?" he asked.
John shook his head. Sherlock remained silent, though he had indeed seen the rune on the demon's arm. It was in the same location as the other angels'; inside of the wrist, but it was much more intricate. Remembering the runes that he had seen during their long hours researching in the library, Sherlock knew it also contained runes of control and of power. "It's how he's controlling them," Sherlock realized.
"Who? The angels?" Dean asked.
"It makes sense," Sam said slowly.
"The master rune binds those with the lesser runes to him," John added.
"Why would he want to though?" Sam asked. "He's got plenty of demons under his rule, why would he want the weeping angels?"
"Well, for one thing, they're way more efficient," Dean brought up. "And probably a ton more trustworthy, seeing as they can't speak."
"Still, they're way more dangerous as well," Sam reminded his brother.
"Within the risk comes the reward," Sherlock said. "They are more efficient, they get the job done, and the reward outweighs the risk of being sent back in time."
"Which Crowley might be able to do on his own," John added.
Dean shook his head. "Nah, demons can't time travel," he said. "Angels, yes. Demons, not so much. At least, not in our experience," he added.
"And I don't think they would magically get some new power out of the blue," Sam agreed.
"All right, so the risk is indeed very high," Sherlock surmised. "But how did he come in contact with them anyway? How did this all start?"
Dean stopped abruptly, Sam almost crashing into him. "Hey, watch it," he scolded his brother. Dean didn't hear him.
"The deal," he said. Sherlock closed his eyes, remembering their first adventure together. "Of course," he breathed.
"Deal? What deal? The deal with Amy?" John asked.
"How much experience has she had with the weeping angels?" Sam asked.
John shrugged. "Probably plenty, traveling with the Doctor and all."
"That's it then," Dean said excitedly. "Crowley makes the deal with her, not for her soul, but for a way to control the weeping angels."
"Or just whatever she knows," Sherlock cut in. "I highly doubt she knew of a way to control the angels. Most likely she told him of the basic information and how to avoid getting sent back in time. That way Crowley would be able to survive the encounter."
"That bastard," Dean said. "Where the hell did this plan come from?"
"We'll find out next time we see him," John said.
"You got that right," Sam muttered.
Suddenly a breeze blew through the tunnel. "Well, gentlemen," Sherlock said. "It does appear we've reached the end of our journey through the sewers."
"About damn time," Dean grinned.
There was another door ahead that, upon opening, revealed a small area with a ladder leading up to the surface. "Well, here's to the hopes that no one is wandering around this area right now," John said.
As they headed up, Sherlock moved over to the wall and took out a small test tube and his pocket knife. Quickly, he scraped the side of the wall, collecting a small sample. Then he pocketed it, moving towards the ladder. This will make for an interesting investigation later, he thought to himself. Exactly why, he was not sure. But Sherlock had a hunch, and he always trusted his instincts.
Luckily, it was still early morning, so there was no one around when four men climbed out of the sewer system. Sherlock straightened, taking note of their surroundings. "All right," Sam said, stretching. "Now onto our next order of business."
"Kicking Crowley's ass once again," Dean said.
"Where are we going to find him?" John asked.
The Winchesters hesitated. "Well, we were close to his operations in the tunnels, so he can't be that far," Sam remembered.
"Yeah, but we can't necessarily go back in there, not with those psycho angels running around in there," Dean reminded him.
"Maybe he's above ground as opposed to under it," John wondered.
"Then why would he inhabit the tunnels? No, he's underground somewhere," Sherlock said. "The only question is, where."
They fell silent. Then Dean sighed, half-laughing. "I know where he is," he said, chuckling.
Sam looked at him. "You don't think...?" he asked.
"Where else?" Dean said.
Sherlock ignored a flicker of annoyance. It was to be expected that the ones who dealt most often with the enemy would be the ones to figure out where he was without of the ones who did not deal with him knowing.
"What?" John asked exasperatedly.
"Crowley loves attention, tricks, and deceit. There is no place that he'd rather be than under our noses, just waiting for the next dramatic entrance," Sam said, a hint of condescension in his voice for the demon.
"He likes to have a bit of flair," Dean added. "Bit of a drama queen, I guess you'd say."
"The house," Sherlock said, realizing what they were getting at.
Sam pointed at him. "Precisely," he said.
"But wouldn't we have noticed him when we were there?" John asked.
"Not if he wasn't there originally," Dean said.
Sherlock nodded. "He moved there when we left," he said. "Just like the one kid who always wins at hide-and-seek."
"You wait until it's been checked, and then you move in there again," John said, understanding dawning on his face. "That way they assume you're not there because they've already been there."
"You got to give it to him, it's a smart move," Sherlock said.
Dean snorted. "I'm not giving Crowley anything."
"You won't have to," Sam said. "Why don't we pay him a visit?"