"He's an angel," Sam explained from behind me as we ran down the steps and into the harsh London air.

"Sure." Sherlock scoffed, walking in front of me and hailing a cab. "Where are you staying?"

"Just a few blocks that way." Sam pointed to down the street and then to the right.

"Sherlock?" I heard a woman call from behind me. "Oh Sherlock, who are all these men?"

"It's all right Mrs. Hudson, they are working with us on a case." John seemed to shield the feeble old woman from us as if we would hurt her. I didn't need to have mad detective skills to see that they obviously cared for this woman like a mother.

"Helping you?" She asked, surprised as Sherlock bent inside the door of the cab and directed him to where we were staying, and hopefully paying the fare. We were short on…pounds…or whatever.

"On a case? That seems a bit odd even for you." She whispered quite clearly into John's ear, "They look very American."

"They are, and they've come all this way because of the murders." He replied softly but still audibly.

"Oh the string of them then? All ten?" She smiled up at John, who even though was short, still had a few inches on her.

"Yep that's right." He ushered her back inside. "We'll be back in a bit Mrs. Hudson, don't wait up."

"Well don't go and have a party." She muttered and then something about not being a housekeeper before shutting the door and a smile stretched across John's lips.

"Sherlock." He walked up to us, harboring a slight limp. "We need to go with them."

"What?" Both Sherlock and I said at the same time. This was our problem now, we didn't need them.

"If this woman has their friend we need to help." John seemed to explain, tilting his head at Sherlock. Sherlock knitted his eyebrows together in confusion as if to wonder why he would care at all.

"That's nice, but really we don't need the help." I tried to get past them and into the cab, but Sam stopped me.

"Well now wait a minute. If she took him, we don't know where, he is our best bet." He motioned to the motionless man standing beside John rolling his eyes.

"I get another cab." John said, seemingly pleased that someone agreed with him for once.

"Dull." Sherlock said under his breath. I shot him a glare, we were wasting time.

I slid into the cab and he sat down next to me. The cab drove away after a moment and I saw Sam shoot me a smile from the sidewalk with John as they got their own cab behind us.

"It's just a left up here." I said, as the driver narrowly skid past a motorcycle. European drivers were nuts, I swear to God. I noticed Sherlock eyeing me curiously as I tapped my fingers on my legs impatiently.

"So an angel you say." He said, intrigued. "Why does he hang around with you two?"

"Cas and I just knew each other a few years ago. It was a weird time, we needed him for…a hunt." I didn't really feel it was apocalypse-dropping time.

"Uh huh, and your brother? I noticed the two aren't as intimate as you two seem to be." He said, suppressing a smile.

"Woa woa, what?" I absentmindedly started grinding my teeth.

"Simple observation." He said, happy that he was striking a nerve. "It is strange that he has made his way into your family. Since your family is so small, it must take a lot of trust…love." He said turning his head around again.

"How can you possibly know that?" I asked, getting more pissed by the minute. The cab driver circled back around the street where the motel was.

"Your brother no?" He shot a look as if to ask if he was wrong. "No mother, no father, clearly a childhood filled with trauma. The pain brings you closer. You have lost many people, that's not hard to see, it is the pain that everyone hides that is deeper."

"And the trauma? We were hunters. We hunted all those things that you normal people have nightmares about." I sneered.

"Normal?" Apparently I hit some sort of nerve. "And I highly doubt that."

"Put your deduction to the test." I balled my fists at my sides suppressing another urge to sock him. The urges were getting way to frequent with this guy. "What else could put that kind of trauma on two brothers? Kill our parents? You find a logical explanation for why we act the way we do."

"Now that is the tricky part." He muttered looking ahead as we pulled into the parking lot. "I do hate it when my own logic fails me. Although it does not happen very often."

I got out and walked to across the cold concrete to the room leaving Sherlock to ponder. I pulled out the key from my pocket and opened the door of the room, hoping to see him just sitting on the bed like nothing was wrong.

The sight was strange, tables overturned and chairs flung around the room. Obviously, there had been a fight, and since Cas wasn't here it seemed obvious Ruby had gotten him. But why? He had the power to kill demons where they stood, he could have taken her. He knew how to fight.

"Don't touch any of it." Sherlock's voice came beside me and I flinched. I saw a note on the bed and I was immediately moving through the wreckage to it. "What did I just say?"

"She left it." He stood in the doorway, light silhouetting him from outside picturesquely. "How did she get him?"

"With a threat." He leaned on the door frame. "A fight ensued when he saw her but after she gave him an ultimatum. Him or you, or him or Sam. Really it's obvious."

I glared at him as I read the note.

Sherlock knows where I am. Ask him about Carl Powers. –R

Oh and M sends his regards

"Who is Carl Powers?" I asked, turning the note over in my hand.

"What?" His eyes squinted at me confused by the turn of events.

"It says to ask about Carl Powers. You'd know where Cas is." I said, half frantic. If his screwed up mind couldn't remember who it was then Cas would die.

"Oh." He said after a moment. "Oh. That's brilliant!"

I climbed over the mess and grabbed him by the lapels on his jacket, pushing him up against the wall while he glared back behind his thick lashes.

"I do not have time for this." I snarled. "Who is Carl Powers."

"He was a child who was part of a case I worked on last year with John. His death was involved in this massive string of murders by this man named Moriarty. We met in this old pool where Carl had died, really very cinematically dramatic. You would have liked it." He smiled as I let him down. "Strangely enough I have not heard from him in a while."

"So, this pool." I said, looking at the note. Something was not right. It didn't sit right after what he said, there was a word. "Wait. The M. Moriarty."

I paused re-reading it before handing the note to him. By the time his face had been drained of all blood, I knew Cas was in deep trouble if Sherlock was this intimidated.

"You said that these demons utilize people's bodies?" He asked as I saw John and Sam's cab pull in.

"Yes."

"I know whose body she's using."

"Who is it?"

"The most dangerous man in the world."

Author's Note:

:O

So yea! I didn't originally plan for it to go in this direction with Moriarty, but I jut rewatched the Great Game and I felt that I need to include him in here. Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while, I have been really stressed lately. Anyway, please review and follow, it makes me write faster!