Sherlock finally reached the building and, after dismissing the taxi, noticed the absence of Sam Winchester. A sudden tightness twisted in the detective's chest and he swallowed a lump in his throat. The stupid hunter didn't incapacitate John.

Sherlock gritted his teeth and broke into a sprint, flinging open the door and running through the halls.

He had to find John and save him from himself.

The fool.

The fool, John thought bitterly as he followed Sam from room to room. How could Sherlock think that just leaving Cas to die was okay?

Well, John argued to himself, how could John think that Sherlock wouldn't do such a thing?

Sam roused the doctor from his thoughts, "John, you have to stop grumbling, okay? You're going to get us caught."

John grimaced and apologized when the two heard a sudden banging.

The hunter held a finger up to his lips and pressed himself up against the wall, edging closer to the corner before jumping out with a roar.

"AAAAHHHHhhhuu-" Sam stopped mid-lunge, knife held high in the air as he found himself standing above his brother. "...Dean..?"

The other brother, surprised, stared up at Sam, eyes bloodshot.

John peeked his head around the corner, "Wow, that's pretty convenient."

Sam let his arm fall to his side as he looked back to John with an exasperated look. Dean took that moment to wipe his face and gather himself. He stood and Sam turned back to him.

"They have Cas."

Sam tilted his head a bit, "Did they ward the area? Can't he just poof his way out..?"

"No," Dean grumbled, walking over to John and snatching away the pistol, leaving the ex-army doctor looking rather disgruntled and confused. "He's not much himself right now. We've got to get him." The hunter turned back to the door and began shooting at the handle, face set in a scowl.

John and Sam cringed at the deafening gunshots.

"Dean-DEAN!" Sam yelled, hands over his ears. His hand shot out to grab his brother's arm, successfully making the shots cease. "Dean, what happened..?

Dean wiped his face anxiously, avoiding Sam's eyes. "You were right. We shouldn't have trusted him again. He's gone and….he's gone." He shook his head, face set in despair.

John stepped forward, "It'll be fine, he'll be fine. We've just got to get the cure figured out. Sherlock and the Doctor ca-"

As if he'd heard his name, Sherlock skidded around the corner, "John-I," he huffed as Sam walked over to him, to give him support.

John, however, was in no mood to listen, "Jesus Christ, Sherlock!" He stomped over, lowering his voice, "He changed Cas. I hope you're happy, you absolute tw-"

Sherlock cut him off, slamming his hand into a certain place on the doctor's shoulder, causing the man to pass out on the spot.

The Winchesters stared at him, stunned.

"If you want to help Castiel, don't either of you say a word," the detective glared. "I've found another way in." They stared at Sherlock as he dragged the unconscious John to the wall and carefully sat him up against it. Standing, he turned briskly and dusted off his coat. "Right. Follow me then."

*scratches head, laughing* so...a thousand and two years later...hehe...please don't hurt me *hides*