Chapter 11

Figuring it Out

"Let's quit the shit," Dean leaned against the wall gun in hand, his finger pressed to the trigger. John watched him thoughtfully as if he was ready to strike him down any moment. "There's a big bad monster coming to get us,"

"Satan," Sherlock muttered, not bothering to look up from the floor, much more interesting than the Winchesters. Dean clenched his jaw disregarding Sherlock.
"He's just another angel, fallen or not, and we've taken down plenty of those and I'll be damned if we just sit around on our ass's drinking tea while it has my brother!"
"No need to get angry," Sherlock stated, deducting his every move from the corner of his eyes. Hasn't slept, has traveled downtown, to every local library and drank at least half a bottle of whisky in the last 24 hours. Very protective of his little brother.
"Are you sure he hasn't gone anywhere?" John asked, leaning forward. He looked worried for a man whom he's just met. So perfectly John of him. Sherlock smiled a bit. John so perfectly human with his emotions.
"Of course he didn't! He's not some fucking idiot! What are you smiling about?" Dean pointed his gun at Sherlock, his teeth clenched making the muscles in his neck ripple with anger. John stood, taking his own gun from his lap pointing it at Dean's own head. "You think this is funny, Mrs. Poppins?"
"You won't shoot me," the detective purred, looking up at the hunter. "You need me, we're your only hope in finding your brother. So if you wouldn't mind shutting up and getting that gun out of my face, I'm trying to think," He sunk back into his chair, his fingers pressed to his lips, eyes fluttering, hazing over. John stared at him, taking in his movements trying to deduct the deducer.
"Well, he won't be of use of us at the moment," John said after clearing his throat. Dean's face washed over with a look of confusion. "He's, uh, going to his Mind Palace," he said with a laugh. Dean swallowed hard, and followed John into the kitchen.
He prayed to Cas, something he only resorted to if it was completely. Where was he? He needed him, more than ever. Wherever Sammy was it wasn't safe and if Dean knew one thing it was that he wouldn't let anything happen to him. Cas, buddy, where are you? We need you right now, this is serious. I don't know what your feathery ass is doing right now, but it sure as hell is not as important as Sam. Plea-
"Dean," Cas stood in the doorway, an angel sword bloody dripping onto the floor.
"Where have you been? I have been praying Cas, Sammy, he's,"
"Gone, yea, I've been listening,"
"Then were the hell have you been?" Dean stood, now his blazing eyes just inches from Cas's face.
"Heaven, I was talking to another angel, someone that knows more than I do about this Time Lord,"
"So what? Is that more important than Sammy?"
"What's that?" John pointed to the silver sword that was spotting blood onto the floor.
"Vessels can be quite messy," Cas said, looking down at the bloody ground with distress. "I will, uh, clean that," John nodded.
"What did you find out?" Dean pressed.
"He's a time traveler, last of his kind, he's known to protect the Earth,"
"Protect it? He's bringing Satan here, he sure as hell isn't protecting it," Dean laughed, sitting back down. Sherlock stood, emerging from his Mind Palace.
"The girl," he muttered. Everyone turned.
"What girl?" Dean barked.
"Rose, something must have happened to her,"
"What makes you think that?" John asked, stirring a cup of tea.
"He cares about her, obviously, if something is threatening to hurt someone you love you would do anything to stop it, even bring the Devil to Earth," he stared deep into John's eyes as he spoke, meaning every word.
"Who's Rose?" Dean asked, lost.
"Me and Sherlock researched anything about Time Lords and found a girl Rose Tyler. We spoke to her mother, Jackie, gave us information. His name is the Doctor, travels in a big blue box, bigger on the inside apparently, from the way Jackie spoke about him bringing hell on earth doesn't sound like him at all,"
"So, obviously, something is forcing him to do it,"
"Crowley," Dean whispered. "That son of a bitch is possessing this Rose chick and is forcing the Doctor to do whatever he wants," Sherlock smiled.
"See, even your small boring brain can understand things," John rolled his eyes at Sherlock's comment. "I've sent for a man, Jack Harkness," The bell rang. "That should be him now,"

Sorry, it's been hard to force myself to write now a days.