Sherlock had turned to face Dean the moment he heard the American wake up with a shout. Cas? Hm. Interesting. Should he ask? Persistence might get him somewhere or the question would just be brushed aside like all the others. He decided to go for broke. "Cas, this person is important to you? Yes?"
Of course the British detective would ask. Dean figured it was pointless to lie. "Yeah, you could say that." Maybe he could distract Sherlock. "Whatcha looking up?" He nodded his head towards the laptop as he came to a sitting position on the bed.
Sherlock smirked and shut the lid to the laptop. "How about you answer a question from and I will answer one from you. Tit-for-tat, if you will."
Dean matched the smirk. "The thing is you are dying to know about me and I don't really care either way if you tell me." He shrugged a bit. He had enough shit on his plate without worrying about someone else's. "Besides, I pretty much know the important things about you. Watson is your sidekick. Moriarty is your nemesis." Another shrug.
Sherlock scowled at Dean and then immediately tensed at the mention of John and Moriarty. How accurate were the renditions of his life in the American's world? "What exactly do you know about me?" He hadn't thought of asking until now.
That had been the wrong thing to say, apparently. "Just the cliff notes Dude. I've never read the books or anything. You got the wrong Winchester. You want my brother for a full recap." Dean could do nothing more than shrug again. He wasn't sure where in Sherlock's time line he was and he wasn't sure sharing anything was wise. Weren't there rules against telling someone their future or something?
Should he press for answers? Did he want to know them? Perhaps it would be for the best if he didn't. Sherlock sighed and allowed himself to relax a little. "Never mind, don't tell me. Probably better that way." The words were practically mumbled. He was pouting of course, mainly because he wasn't getting any of the answers he wanted.
"Okay, now that we that out of the way. I need my laptop back." Dean leaned over and grabbed the computer.
"It isn't yours. I am the one who bought it, so technically it's mine." Sherlock shoved Dean's hand away.
"Yeah, but you bought it for me. Don't be an Indian giver, nobody likes that guy Holmes." Dean got up off the bed and snatched the laptop off the table before Sherlock could stop him a second time.
Sherlock glared at the American. "You are never going to tell me anything, are you?"
"Probably not Dude. Nothing against you really. Trust me when I say you are better off not knowing." Dean opened the laptop and decided to try a different search. 'Dimensional Portals.' Maybe he could find something there. Cas had said he would need to do this on his own so that meant there had to be a way home right?
Sherlock wasn't used to be the one being left in the dark all the time. Now he knew how John or Lestrade felt when he never shared his plans. He hovered over Dean's shoulder to see what the American would be looking up. The search didn't surprise him really, the amount of links that popped up did.
Dean tried to ignore the British detective reading over his shoulder. He scrolled down the list, ignoring all the links to 'Star Gate' since that was movie and he didn't exactly have a Star Gate handy anyway. There were some about mirrors and he decided to check one out. It was common lore that mirrors were often a gateway to another dimension. Hopefully that would also include parallel worlds.
"Wait. Stop." Sherlock was still reading over Dean's shoulder. Mirrors. Portals. He suddenly remember the e-mail his older brother had sent him.
"Would you stop back seating driving? I'm trying to concentrate here." Dean kept scrolling down and doing a cursory glance of the words on the screen until something popped out at him.
"Damn it. Give me that!" Sherlock moved around Dean and snatched the laptop back. He unplugged it and began pacing around in the hotel room with it, one hand busily typing on the keyboard while the other kept the computer balanced.
"Dude, what the hell? I'm trying to find out how to get back home." Dean got up off the bed and he tried to take the laptop back but the British detective kept evading him.
Sherlock sighed. "I am trying to help you, you twat." He twisted away from Dean and continued to type skillfully with one hand. The e-mail Mycroft had sent him had been titled 'Broken Mirrors.' Damn it. He should have read this sooner, then maybe he wouldn't be ten steps behind the American. He decrypted the text and pictures.
A strange occurrence is going on in your area. I would like you to investigate for me. I know you are 'busy' but just humour me, would you? There is an abandoned warehouse that reported having a bright glowing light and all that was found was broken glass everywhere, mirrors. A picture of a man was taken. We believe him to be very dangerous. Do try not to be careless.
The pictures attached showed the broken glass and a picture of Dean leaving the scene. There was also a location for the warehouse. Finally, something up his alley he could deal with. Did Mycroft know about parallel worlds? He just assumed yes for the moment, his older brother was practically the British Government after all. "Come on. We need to go." He closed the laptop, stuffed it under his arm and left the room without waiting for a response from the American.
Dean stopped following Sherlock, a mixture of confusion and ire on his face. Twat? What the hell did that mean? Some British insult from the sounds of it. He was about to comment on it but it was clear the Dude was too focused on what was on the computer screen. That got his attention immediately. The British detective wouldn't stay still at all and it made it impossible to get behind Sherlock to read whatever had caught the Dude's interest. Leave? What was going on now? Where were they going? He grabbed his shirt and coat and hastily put them on as he chased after Sherlock. "Are you going to tell me where we are going?" It probably wasn't even worth asking since he hadn't exactly been telling what he knew.
Sherlock smirked as he got in the car Dean had stolen earlier. They would probably have to change vehicles soon. It wasn't smart to use a stolen car for more than twenty-four hours. How long had he spent with American? Twelve hours? Fifteen maybe? It wasn't like he had looked at the time when they first met. "Here. See anyone who looks familiar?" He passed the laptop to Dean as he started the car by connecting the wires under the steering column.
Dean was surprised Sherlock was forthcoming with the laptop. He opened it up and read the message and his eyes narrowed when he saw a picture of himself. "Who sent this to you?" He didn't remember that place at all or being there.
"You have your secrets, I have mine." Sherlock smirked again and began driving to the warehouse. Hopefully he would find some answers there because he was tired of all the questions.