The image of George plagued my dreams when the alcohol wore off and woke me from my originally peaceful sleep. My body was overcome with tremors as I tried to survey my surroundings in the dark bedroom, my head pounding mercilessly. The warmth emanating from the body next to me was the only thing that kept me from moving.
"Emily?" a groggy voice questioned from beside me, making me jump slightly.
"Sorry Sherlock," I whispered, rolling over to the other side of the bed.
An arm quickly snaked around my waist and pulled me back towards Sherlock roughly, evoking a screech and a slight feeling of panic from me.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sounding very awake for what was most likely around four in the morning.
I shook my head in response and buried my face into his bare chest before realizing he could not see me, so I mumbled a short response.
"I'm sure you can tell, Sherlock," I whispered.
"Something happened at work today. You work in a mental hospital where strange and unsettling sights are common, so what is it that has you in a state of distress?"
"Some dumbass allowed my patient to be placed in a non secure room where he hung himself from the light fixture," I breathed out quickly.
Before the man could say a word, my phone rang from my nightstand. The ringtone was one I had not heard in some time, but it made me shoot up and snatch the phone instantly to answer.
"Abby, Sam and Dean need your help," the deep voice on the other end stated.
I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the headboard, giving Sherlock an apologetic look.
"Cas, it's 4am."
"I'm sorry," he said exhaustedly.
A grunt of pain came from his end as I opened my mouth to speak, making me rethink my words.
"Are you ok?"
The man ignored my question and took a deep breath before responding.
"Where are you?"
"I'm in England for God's sake Cas. The address is 221C Baker Street, what did the boys get themselves into this time?" I sighed.
The call dropped and a man in a trench coat was standing at the foot of my bed, making Sherlock jump as I groaned.
"Cas we've been over this," I said as I flicked on the light, revealing a bloodied Cas swaying in the center of the room.
"Shit," I sighed, pushing off of the bed and onto my feet to support the angel.
"What the hell?" Sherlock asked, seemingly questioning his soberness.
"It's a long story," I said, grabbing Cas lightly by the shoulders and bringing him to the bathroom while Sherlock stared after us.
"Shirt. Off," I ordered, sitting him down on the edge of the bathtub.
The angel did not seem to be lucid, and simply shrugged off his coat before staring blankly into the wall. Sighing, I tugged his bloody shirt off of him carefully before throwing it onto the floor. This revealed the many scratches and burns lining his torso as well as a deep wound in his stomach. All of which were the work of an angel blade, so mortal medicine would not do much to help him. Taking the angel's hand in my own, I tried to get his attention.
"Cas, you need to heal yourself."
The angel merely nodded and I moved his hand onto my shoulder and placed my forehead against his.
"Sherlock," I addressed the man who was standing rigid in the door frame.
"This is going to weaken me, please make sure he takes a shower afterwards," I said.
Sherlock tilted his head in confusion as Castiel whispered an apology before reaching out for my soul, making me cry out in pain.
"Get away from her," Sherlock spat, taking a step forward only to be stopped in his tracks by a pleading look from me as darkness overtook my vision.
"I'm so sorry," were the last words I heard from Castiel as I fell unconscious.
When I woke up, I was greeted by the sight of Sherlock holding a gun to Castiel's head boredly. The angel was clean and dressed hilariously in an outfit of Sherlock's.
"Sherlock it's alright," I promised, rolling off of the bed and pulling a weary Cas to his feet.
"Oh don't pout, it wouldn't do anything to him anyways," I mused at Sherlock's annoyed expression.
The detective lowered the gun to his side and opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him.
"Monsters are real. Heaven, hell, purgatory are all real. The Men of Letters keep the supernatural population here low by killing anything and setting traps. Castiel here, happens to be an angel," I said slowly.
Without waiting for his reaction, I turned my attention back to Cas.
"Why the hell does it look like you went through a meat grinder made of angel blades? What did the boys get themselves into this time?"
"We were taking out an active nest of vampires. A group of angels who still hold my faults against me have been tracking me and managed to find me while we were trying to destroy the nest. My brothers nearly killed me and the Winchesters got themselves captured by the time I dealt with them. More angels were on their way and I was too weak to fight. I told you I would only call if we were in serious danger," he responded lowly.
"You and the Winchesters are always in serious danger Cas."
My harsh statement left the angel looking crestfallen and the detective very confused. I took in a deep breath and grabbed the angel blade from under my bed along with a machete.
"It's alright, I haven't seen the boys in a while anyways. Let's go save their asses," I grinned a bit manically.
Castiel nodded, a bit wary of my optimism as he reached for my shoulder.
"Wait-" Sherlock yelled, grabbing my arm as Castiel zapped us to Sam and Dean.
Fortunately, most of the vampires were dead. Unfortunately, there were three armed angels standing above the Winchesters who sat tied to wooden beams. Sherlock had been brought into the fray with us, his eyes wide in shock as Cas dropped his angel blade from his sleeve into his hand.
"Hello boys," I smirked, raising the knife and charging at one of the angels as though to stab him, only to slice the rope holding Sam and retreat as he untied his brother.
"Sherlock what the hell," I groaned, realizing that the detective had managed to come with us into the heart of a soon to be battle.
An angel charged me as I was distracted, but Sherlock's expression warned me. I sidestepped the male angel and planted my blade in his back. I did not remove it until the flickering light stopped, signalling his death. Dean had come up from behind the second angel as Castiel fought the other, however; the Winchester was unarmed. Silently, I tossed the blade to Dean before pushing a bleeding Sam and confused Sherlock behind me protectively. When the angels were killed, Cas immediately zapped all of us back to my flat.
"Cas, if you are not aware, this is a rather small place to be sending all of us," I said, exasperation laced in my tone.
"Em," Sherlock warned, just as Sam fell against the wall in a bloody heap.
"Nice place you've got here. Looks like you made it out," Dean mused as Castiel healed his brother.
"I thought I did," I said coldly.
The silence was heavy, but was soon lifted when a smile broke across Dean's face.
"I missed you sis," he grinned, opening his arms which allowed me to embrace him in a rough hug.
"I missed you guys too," I said as I pulled away to give Sam a gently hug as he swayed tiredly.
"You too Cas," I laughed, jumping into the angel's arms and catching him by surprise but he caught me and held me in the air for a moment before placing me on the ground.
"Look guys, it's been nice to see you but you all look and smell like death so kindly get out of my flat. Go back to the bunker and sleep," I ordered, nodding at Cas who zapped himself and the boys away before they could say anything.
"So..." I said nervously, turning to face Sherlock.
"I'm high," he said, rubbing his eyes and flopping onto the bed.
The detective screwed his eyes shut in an attempt to fall asleep, however; it was more likely that he ended up in his mind palace as his brain went into overdrive while trying to comprehend the existence of the supernatural. Cautiously, I changed my shirt and slid into the bed beside him.