Chapter Two: We're Just Friends

"I watched my best friend fall sixty feet to his death, and you're going to lie and tell me that he is still alive so that I'll help you?'

Dean had to agree with the man. "That is pretty sick, Cas."

Castiel gave him a look. "Angels don't lie." There was an uncomfortable silence as he recognized his mistake. Pain stabbed at his chest. Dean reached out and comfortingly rubbed his shoulder.

John darted his eyes back and forth between them. "Are you two…?"

Realization dawned on Dean's face and he pulled his hand away. "No. No, absolutely not. We're just friends."

John didn't appear convinced. "It's alright if you are."

"For the last time, there is nothing going on between us."

Cas cocked his head to the side. "For the last time?" he pondered.

Dean stalked out of the bar without paying for his drinks.

"Why do you get to be the one to storm out?" Cas called after him. "If anyone has a right to be upset about this, it should be me." He followed Dean out the door.

"Don't even worry about it," John grumbled facetiously to himself. "I've got your bill covered." He tossed enough money on the bar for all of their drinks and slipped the bartender a tip before limping outside. The first thing he noticed was the two men bickering. He felt a pang in his heart. The sight brought back memories of him and Sherlock.

He wanted to escape before they noticed, but something stopped him. If there was even a slight possibility that Sherlock was still alive, he had to pursue it. As he approached the two men, they both stopped talking but continued to fight with their eyes.

"I really don't see how I can help the two of you, but I am willing to do anything I can. Please, just tell me what you know." John stared expectantly at Dean.

Dean held up his hands. "Don't look at me. I have no idea what Cas is talking about." He leaned against the side of his Impala, his arms folded across his chest. "I'm just as curious as you are."

Castiel avoided eye contact with both of them. "I think maybe we should wait for Sam."

"Excuse us one moment." Dean pulled him out of earshot. "Why?"

"In John's fragile state, I'd rather not freak him out and Sam is better at explaining things than we are."

"Since when?"

"Dean, you're far too blunt when it comes to telling people about the supernatural. I don't want you to frighten him."

A smug smile appeared on his lips. "You think I'm scary?"

Choosing not to dignify that with a response, Castiel returned to John's side. Before he could think of something to say to him, a taxi pulled up to the curb. It was Sam in the backseat, he was sure of it. There was no mistaking that hair.

"Dean, stay here with John. I'll be right back."

Sam was surprised to see Castiel approaching him. "What's going on?" Castiel explained to him the entire situation. Realizing he had been leaning forward, he stood up straight. "And you want me to break it to him?" Sam asked, after he was finished speaking.

"It's a lot to take in, but maybe he'll believe you."

When they returned to the Impala, Dean narrowed his eyes at them. He hated feeling out of the loop.

Sam sighed. "I know Castiel wants me to ease into it, but I really don't know how else to say it but just to say it. John, Sherlock is still alive. His brother, Mycroft, sold his soul to a Crossroad Demon in exchange for bringing him back to life."