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(Spoiler for Season 9 of Supernatural)

Chapter 2 - Flying

Cass sighed while putting down the papers he was reading. Three dozens of corpses had been found in London in less than a month. What was strange was the way they were killed ; always supernatural, never the exactly the same. The article also said a detective named Sherlock Holmes was on the case. Cass had never heard such a strange name before.

Dean was currently singing "Highway to hell" in his shower, and Sam was away, buying food for the next two days. His shopping trip would take at least one hour, because Dean had insisted on finding pie.

Cass would've had enough time to see by himself what was happening in England, had he still had his wings. But stealing the grace of another angel hadn't brought them back, and so he had to take the car, the plane or his feet to go everywhere.

He missed them. Not only for the fast travel option, but also for their invisible and reassuring presence in his back. He missed his soft black feathers, brushing on his trench coat when he made a quick movement ; though they were invisible, as much for humans as for him, he had been able to feel them even on Earth.

But when Metatron had taken his grace, he had lost them. And sometimes he still had the feeling that they were there, just in his back, but it was just the ghost feeling that a missing arm would send to a war veteran.

Cass sighed again. Thinking about his lost wings wouldn't make them come back, nor help with the murders. He wanted to go to London to solve those crimes, save people, kill things, (the family business, Dean would've said), but he knew the older Winchester was afraid of taking plane.

He had learned that fact about two months ago. They were staying in a little town near New York, and Garth had called them for a shtriga in Nevada (himself was busy with a nest of vampires in Wisconsin). Sam wanted them to take the plane, but Dean had categorically refused. Cass obviously wasn't able to transport them without his wings. Finally, Sam had gone on his own, while Dean and Cass had taken care of a group of werewolves not too far.

Castiel prayed to his Father so Sam would find some pie. It would be a lot easier to convince Dean if his stomach was satisfied. The angel also prepared himself to the puppy eyes face, category "please I need your help". He had discovered his ability not so long ago, and now he used it on purpose.

Dean went out of his shower, half-naked as always (happily enough he had trousers on). He immediately noticed the papers in front of his angel, and the puppy eyes.

"What ?" he asked, grumpy.

Cass put all his soul in his pray for pie (and Sam) and the miracle happened ; the rumble of the Impala approached and suddenly stopped. Dean's face tensed, entirely in the hope of the much-desired dessert.

Sam went in ; he dragged a few bags. Cass closed his eyes.

"Sammy ?" Dean asked, while finally putting on a t-shirt, then a shirt, as if he wanted to be elegant to eat his pie.

"I got pie", Sam said in a reassuring way.

While Dean opened the box and began to eat with various sounds, Cass took Sam apart and showed him the article about the victims. "You tell him about the murders," the angel said, "I got him about the plane." Sam nodded and turned back to his brother.

"Get this," he said while quickly reading the news. "Twenty-four corpses were found in various places, blah blah blah ... the first ones were of every ages but then it's only children... blah blah blah... The other common fact is the level of violence that lead to death... Some bled to death after being bitten, the heart of some was torn out... Another "lot" seventy-five pounds before dying... What do you think ? It's for us, isn't it ?"

But of all his monologue, Dean had only heard one thing. "London ? Are you friggin' kidding me ?"

Cass immediately interrupted. "Yeah, I've thought about that. We'll take a boat, of course. Garth found us places on a boat from a religious travel company. There are only a few disadvantages, but nothing too horrible ; no alcohol authorized, no women, no guns or any kind of weapons... But everything's okay, we'll find our supply at our arrival."

Sam suddenly coughed and turned his back to Dean, so his face was just in front of Cass. The angel saw the enormous grin of the younger Winchester and had to fight back the urge to smile too.

"But the trip will only take four weeks."

"Are you sure..."

"You don't have to apologize." Cass said. "We know you can't take the plane because you're too afraid, but as you can see, everything is arranged."

Sam's grin enlarged. Directly insulting Dean would've lead to open war, but being gentle on him on the pretext that he was afraid of something, while treating him like a child, was the best way to manipulate him.

Cass gave Sam a meaningful glance. If the younger Winchester laughed now all his plan would be ruined. For a better effect, he gave Dean his "puppy eyes" face.

"How long does take the plane ?" Dean asked.

"About six hours," Cass immediately replied.

He could see the train of thoughts in Dean's mind. Six hours... Four weeks... No guns, no alcohol, no women...

"We'll take the plane." Dean tried to sound like he had made a decision only based on objective reasons. Sam began to eat his fist to not laugh, but Dean wasn't mistaken by the tremors of his shoulders. Which didn't say anything, trying to gather the pieces of his shattered dignity.

"Good, because Garth hasn't found anything. In fact, he isn't even aware we're going to England." Cass finally permitted a large grin to spread on his face.

Dean gave him the face. "You..." He turned to Sam. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

Sam wasn't going to laugh. He had promised himself he wouldn't. First because Dean would kill him, then because Cass would kill him.

But looking at his brother, lost in the J. F. Kennedy Airport was just too weird. The usually self-confident hunter followed his partners in crime on every step they made.

The had successfully passed all the controls and now they were heading to the boarding gate. Sam felt naked without the demon blade, and he knew Dean wasn't any better without his Colt. Cass' angelic sword had passed the controls without any problems, maybe because of its heavenly provenance.

The finally arrived at the gate 72, where they had to wait for the boarding. Dean immediately began to eat the ridiculously expensive pie he had bought in the duty free zone. Sam just sat down.

"We'll land at six p.m.," Cass said, "in Heathrow Airport in London. You're going to check our hotel in, while I'll go to 221B Baker street. There lives the man called Sherlock Holmes. They say he's a great detective who resolves any problem you give him, but he isn't aware about the supernatural. So I'll tell him to stop his research before he gets killed, and try to gather any information he has."

"What do you think we have here ?" Sam asked.

"At least vampires and werewolves," Dean said. "But there are also traces of other creatures. It could be a shapeshifter that takes the skins of other monsters ?"

"It's impossible, various people were killed in various places but at the same time. And if he really was a shapeshifter, he would be a lot more discrete."

"So it could be a sort of gang."

"Yeah, a monster gang."

Suddenly, the boarding seemed to begin. Sam got up and handed Dean his bag, while Cass was heading to the gate, searching for his fresh-made fake passport.

"Come on," the younger Winchester said. "We've already done that."

Instead of responding, Dean simply gave him a bitch face.

The roaring of the engines finally calmed down. They were now flying right to London, and Dean seemed to relax a little, since the ascent fase was finished.

They were sitting in the central row of the plane, with Dean between Sam and Cass. Still, Sam could feel his brother was still tensed, even if he was trying to read an old magazine (Busty Asian Beauties, March 2010). Well, it was easy to guess because the older Winchester was flinching with every sound that came from the engines. Sam was trying to sleep, while Cass was just staring blankly in front of him.

Suddenly, turbulences made the plane shake. Dean immediately rose his head, meeting Sam's comforting gaze. His brother was wondering why he was so afraid of flying. He briefly thought about a sort of childhood trauma, but himself couldn't remember anything about a possible past accident. Maybe he was just afraid because he wasn't the one in control. After all, he always insisted on driving the Impala. Okay, it was his baby, but there were a few times where it would've been wiser to let Sam drive.

The turbulence wasn't stopping and the face of the hunter was getting paler and paler, turning to a sick green. "Are you okay ?" Sam asked.

To his surprise, Dean wasn't the one to respond. Cass' deep voice came from behind the hunter. "Not at all." Dean gave him a quick glance, got up, passed awkwardly in front of his brother then ran to the toilets.

Now Sam could see Cass, whose face was just as pale as Dean's, contrasting with his dark brown hair.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked. He thought Cass wouldn't be afraid of plane, since he had wings. He was used to fly.

"In case you didn't notice, I've got no wings anymore. I feel like Buck, trapped in Hagrid's garden, except I've got no wings, and uh... It's a sort of flying garden."

Sam frowned. He still wasn't used to Cass' sudden culture, but anyway, he felt a prickle of gratefulness for Metatron's gift. That didn't stop the angelic scribe being a dick, though.

"Do you..." he began, but Dean's return cut him.

"I hate plane toilets. Or any kind of flying toilets. Or flying things." Dean put his belt on as if his life depended on it. (It probably did). "How long ? " he asked.

"Still... 5h30 to go."

"I'll kill you one day, Sammy."

"Yeah, you probably will."

"Don't say that."

Dean seemed very happy they had landed alive and in one single piece. They had found their luggage and were now heading to the closest hotel they could afford.

Cass let them there and took a cab to 221B Baker Street. He didn't know what to expect ; from what he had read, Sherlock Holmes was a strange but efficient man. Cass just hoped he would be easy to convince.

I feel so bad for putting Cass through a meeting with a pissed off Sherlock ^^

Thank you for reading :) The next chapter should come in about 2-3 days.