A/N: I have had such a great response to this story. It's crazy. Seriously, it's less than three hundred words. Thanks, though, to all my readers. Time is all weird in this chapter, but I figured hell was weird so what the hell. Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own the gorgeous Jensen Ackles or the scrumptious Benedict Cumberbatch- I mean, Sherlock or Supernatural.
WARNING: THE END OF THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS BAD LANGUAGE. IF YOU WANT TO SKIP IT, FEEL FREE.
Over the next few months, Sherlock got to know the voice. Its name was Dean Winchester. He was a "hunter", american, and apparently knew where they were. It was hell. Literally. Demons came and tortured them every single day, relentlessly. No matter what, they were always perfect the next day, ready to be tortured again. The only way Sherlock got through it was to think of John, how he would react. Dean said he thought of his brother, Sam, and his car. Hey, he was an american.
Sherlock would say he became soft in hell, but Dean would say that Sherlock had become more resilient. At the beginning of his stay, Sherlock was close to giving in at the end of every day, but he wouldn't talk to Dean at all. After 20 years, Sherlock could resist the demons' questions, but he would also talk to Dean every single day. They were used to each other, knew each other's screams, the life story of the other. In those years, Dean and Sherlock became like brothers. They were both humans who would not give in.
Eventually, after 26 years, they each found out why the other was there. It was at night, well, night on Earth, while their wounds were healing. Dean was the one to break the subject. "So, Sherly, why are you here?" Sherlock grimaced. After all this time, Dean still called him that stupid name. "My guess? I think because I was not the best person in life, and I committed suicide. What about you?" Dean paused. "Wait, you, commit suicide? Can I ask why?" Sherlock sighed. "You can ask." Dean grinned. "OK then, I'm asking." Sherlock rolled his eyes. Some people would always be morons. "I jumped off the top of a hospital to save my friends. It was after Moriarty died." Dean had heard about Moriarty. "Man,that guy was a dick." Oh so much tact there. "Yes, he was a...dick...I suppose. He shot himself in the head, so I had to jump, otherwise my friends would have died, shot by his snipers." Dean snorted. "Wait, you had friends? Impressive." Sherlock sighed again. "Now, why are you here?"
Dean Winchester had no qualms telling Sherlock the whole story. He knew everything else about Dean, had deduced part of it. "Well, long story short, I'm here because my brother got stabbed in the back, so I had to save him. I made a deal with the crossroads demon that I had a year before I got sent to hell. Man, I would kill for some burgers."
Four years later, Dean was torturing souls. He had screamed at the demon who was torturing him, had said yes sarcastically, but demons were demons, and they didn't care about sarcasm. So now he tortured souls. He had been forced to torture Sherlock once, but he "hadn't been harsh enough", so he never did it again. He did tell Sherlock something, however. He said, "Don't you ever say yes. I will come back here and kill you myself if you do. This isn't fun, and you shouldn't have to suffer through it." So at least he hadn't lost his humanity.
After forty years of being tortured, ten of them alone, Sherlock was ready to give up. The demons had sent Dean his way again, and he was doing the best he could to remember Sherlock, but it was hard. The day was almost over when there was a blinding flash of light. The demons all covered their eyes, shrieking. The light came towards Sherlock and Dean, and it stopped. It spoke, sounding like iron nails dragging across a blackboard. "Dean Winchester. You have been here too long," it said. "Damn straight. Who they hell are you, you son of a bitch?" The light continued. "That does not matter. I am here to get you out of here. Step into the light." Dean was no idiot, but this thing made the demons cower in fear. He stepped towards it, then looked back at Sherlock. "Hell no. Not without Sherlock." The light seemed to startle. "Sherlock Holmes? You should not be here either. Go with Dean." Sherlock found he could move. The chains, the ever-present chains, were gone. He looked at Dean, then smiled and spoke like his friend. "Let's get out of here. This place sucks ass." The light flared as they stepped into it, and suddenly it was all around them, going through them.
A/N: That's it for now! Sorry for the language, I wanted to make it seem authentic. Also, Sherlock is a little OOC at the end. Anyways, please review, and in the meantime, I'll write a new chapter! Until next we meet!