Chapter 9

They had been talking for hours, well it was mostly Dean talking and John drinking and asking questions. Cas was mostly quiet but he said a few things every now and then. Dean had thought that would be for the best while he explained who he was.

"We tracked the witch down to an abandoned house," Dean explained as he recalled the events that led to his and Sherlock's predicament. "She wasn't there but we found her altar and then Sam and I split up to check out the place for more clues. I came across a strange book and a goblet and the next thing I knew the gem was glowing and it grew brighter and then bam I'm out and I wake up like this." He gestured to himself.

"Could have been worsh," John slurred. His eyes were bloodshot and watery and he was bobbing back and forth. He could barely hold the bottle that was nearly empty. "You could of woken up like thish." He tried to point at himself but he nearly poked himself in the eye.

"You aint bad looking yourself," Dean said. There had been times when he felt like he was going to have to bolt towards the couch to catch the other man in case he toppled over, but John hadn't.

"You are kinder and-" John paused to shake his head. "Pleash sssstop that. People talk too much about ush being together."

"Okay." Dean looked over to Cas and wondered if people here had made the same kind of speculation of John and Sherlock as they did with him and the angel. He wondered why people keeping making jokes like that, but in most cases it was people who weren't human. People have also said the same about him and Sam until they were informed they were brothers.

"Continue." John took one more swig from the bottle and set it down on the table, nearly missing the edge.

"You went to talk to your local witch here and then told me what she said. I gave the news to Sam and Sherlock about the one we hunted and ding dong the witch is dead thanks to them and Cas. I thought I could just relax but then Molly gave us a call and after examining the body I deduced it was a werewolf."

"Then I arrived," Cas added

"And here we are," Dean said as he stretched out in the chair.

"And now there is a werewolf in London," John slurred. There was only a tenth left in the bottle and Dean had noticed that it had started out three fourth's full. "A bloody werewolf."

"The blood would only be around his mouth and fingers," Cas said.

"It's what they say here," Dean said. "It's a bit of a swear." He turned back to John. "At least it's not an American werewolf." He chuckled.

"Uh?" John asked as he rubbed his head. "Oh you mean that movie. Do you make jokesh like that all the time?"

"Not all, just most of the time."

"A Sherlock that jokes," John said and placed his head down on one end of the couch. "Not sure if I can get ushed to that."

"This is only temporary," Dean said before he finished his second cup. Tea really did taste good. He wondered if he should try it once he got his own body back. He usually only drank it when it followed after the word iced. "Once the real Sherlock and Sam arrive then Cas will switch us back."

"Not certain," Cas said.

"What?" Dean asked. He was glad that he had set his cup down or else there might have been a mess on the floor. He wouldn't have dropped it but there would have been tea on the floor from his startled hand shake. "Dude you can fix this. I know you can."

"I have to see what kind of process was used. I have to look into both of your bodies to see what is the cause. There is the possibility this might be permanent."

"Don't say that," Dean hissed. The idea had never crossed his mind before. He was counting on his angel friend to put them back. If Cas wouldn't be able to then they were screwed. He wasn't sure if he could pretend to be Sherlock Holmes for the rest of his life. The apartment was decent place to live. Mrs. Hudson seemed like a great landlady and John was a good friend, but it wasn't home. His home may have four wheels, his food came out of drive-throughs and his bed was never the same, but it was home and part of his life. His home would never be complete without Sam.

"Sorry Dean. I felt like I had to bring it up."

"Not now." Dean nodded towards the couch. "Don't want to freak the poor guy out anymore."

"I don't think it is possible, not in his current state."

Dean glanced back to the couch. John was quiet and still with his eyes closed. The sound of his breathing meant he was asleep. That was what the poor guy needed, to get drunk and sleep it off. A couple minutes passed and John opened his mouth and soft snoring came out.

"Do you need me to stay?" Cas asked. He stared at his cup and took a small sip from it.

"I want you to stay," Dean said. "At least until Sam and the real Sherlock shows up. Don't tell anyone what you just told me."

"But-"

"No," Dean held up a finger to silence his friend. The only sound was John's snoring as it grew louder and louder. "They are not going to know because I know you will be able to fix this, or help us find another way." Cas was silent. He was staring at his tea again and when he looked up he was staring at the wall. "I have faith in you. I know you can do this."

"I will try." He looked down at his cup and then into Dean's eyes. "I will try my best."

"That is what I want to hear."

Dean knew he wasn't going to get out much in the way of conversation out of Mr. Stoic and Mr. Snores A Lot and he was getting hungry. He went to the kitchen to try and find some food. He found a package of cookies called Jammy Dodgers and some pears. There was not much in the fridge, aside from the jars and ziplock bags containing various body parts. Dean did find some cheese that smelled all right and tasted like cheddar. He ate his snack and offered some to Cas who declined.

"I have to go out," Dean said as he turned on John's computer. His password was easier to figure out than Sam's. "Need to go grocery shopping." He was curious about what kind of bookmarks and favorites John had but went straight to Google instead.

Cas said nothing. The angel was just sitting on the chair and staring at John.

"Did I piss you off?" Dean asked he looked up where the nearest grocery store was and there was a place called Sainsburys that was within walking distance.

"I was thinking of all the different ways that I could possibly help," Cas said.

"Thanks," Dean powered down the laptop. He'll use it to look up some porn later. He had a feeling John had also looked up some porn before. The guy was a soldier and was easy to talk to. He was the type that Dean could sit back with, drink a beer and just talk and they probably had a lot of common interests. "I'll be back shortly." He checked Sherlock's wallet. There was a credit card and plenty of cash. "Our money is kind of bland compared to this. I wish ours were more colorful."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Cas asked.

"I can handle shopping on my own." Dean slipped he wallet back in the pocket.

"I would like to observe."

"Why would an angel need to learn how to grocery shop?" Dean asked and grabbed a set of keys. "I need you here to work on the putting us back, to watch John and if he wakes up to tell him where I am. I don't want him to worry any more than he already has."

Cas nodded.

"Good. If Sam calls tell him I went shopping." Dean nodded once more to his friend before he left.

It was easy to navigate around the store and find what he needed. Dean had the presumption that since it was a foreign country things would be really different. England wasn't that different from America. He was able to find the basics like milk, eggs, orange juice, bread, and apples. He found a package of fries, a package of battered fish and a case of beer. He even found a frozen fruit pie. He paid no "attention to the people who just stared at him.

"Even us famous detectives need to shop," Dean had said to a few people who had recognized him. The employees didn't bother him after asking him if he needed help looking for anything and Dean assured them that he was able to find what he was looking for and thanked them.

"Huh," he said when he paused in front of a display of rum. He didn't expect to find hard liquor in a grocery store.

"Surprise isn't it?" Crowley's voice was behind him. "They got spirits here."

"You," Dean said as he spun around to face the smug demon. "What the hell do you want?"

"Didn't get the chance to talk earlier," Crowley answered. "Popped in for a visit and then angel boy barges in and tells me to leave." He shook his head. "You need to teach your boyfriend some manners."

"Why are you here?" Dean asked. "I can assure you won't find Kevin or the other half of the tablet here."

"You and the moose assumed that is the reason for my visit."

"Then why are you here?"

"I wanted to get a good look at you," Crowley said. "How does it feel wearing a nice English suit?"

"That's it. You just wanted to see me in a different body?" He glanced around him. There was a few bottles of tequila ten feet away with the packs of rock salt tied to the bottle. He would be able to burn Crowley within seconds.

"Are you using his brain?"

"It's like having a new super power."

"You know the saying, mate. With great power comes great responsibility."

"And it would be my responsibility to ice the villain." Dean smirked and pointed at him. "That would be you."

"Touché," Crowley said. "You are aware that your current body is devoid of anything that can keep a demon out?"

"Are you aware that Cas is still in town and I can just pray and he would be here in an instant."

Crowley was taken back. "I see. Well I leave you to your shopping. I recommend the Glenkinchi Scotch if you can find it. I doubt my favorite is here." He strolled into an aisle.

"I don't care what you recommend," Dean said as he followed after him only to find that he had disappeared. Damn Crowley and his suggestions. Damn him and his cocky walk and smug little smirk. He was up to something. It might not have been about Kevin or the tablet but he wanted something. Dean didn't have time to think about that. He had to pay for groceries and get back to the apartment.

Cas was still sitting in John's chair and staring at John as he slept on the couch when Dean returned with the food. The angel didn't move. He didn't even look up at him as Dean dropped the keys on the nearest end table and carried the bags to the kitchen.

"Uh Cas it would be nice if you got off your butt and helped," Dean said.

"I thought I was," Cas said without looking away.

"Sorry," Dean said as he placed some of the bags on the counters and a few bare locations on the table. "I ran into Crowley while in the store."

"Crowley?" Cas had jumped from the chair. "Why didn't you call?"

"I can handle myself," Dean said. "How's sleeping beauty?"

"Still sleeping," Cas said as he grabbed a container of juice.

"Juice, milk, and eggs go in the fridge," Dean said knowing that the angel might be confused. "The fish, fries and pie go in the freezer. The bread, apples, beer and whiskey stay out."

"Are you aware there are jars with human organs in here?" Cas asked.

"I know. Guy is a genius and a nutjob." They moved around the jars trying to fit in containers. "I still don't get why Crowley was here. He said he wanted to see me like this."

"He must have an ulterior motive. He wants the other half of the demon tablet."

"Well duh," Dean said and rubbed his head. He had a headache. "I want to know why else. There has to be something." He strolled back into the living room. What could Crowley want? He tapped his head. "C'mon super brain. Work for me."

"What did he say?"

"He said this body is vulnerable to demon possession but you're here so none of his goons is going to get it. He also recommended a type of Scotch which I did not get."

"This is English whiskey," Castiel said as he studied the bottle.

"This is going to chew at me," Dean said as he rubbed his head. His headache was growing and it was getting harder and harder for him to concentrate.

"Someone is at the door," Cas said. The angel was better than a doorbell.

"Sherlock," the kind Mrs. Hudson called to him. "Detective Lestrade is here."

"If he is not alone I don't want to talk to them." Dean had not the patience for the London police.

"He is," Mrs. Hudson said. "Someday you will answer the door yourself."

"Send him in," Dean said and turned to Cas. "He wants to talk about the werewolf victim. Don't say anything about werewolves."

Lestrade seemed even more confused and frustrated than Dean was feeling. As soon as he stepped inside he glanced at Cas and then at John before turning to Dean. His lips were pursed up and his gaze was focused. He was in deep thought, but looked like he was waiting for Dean to say something.

"I know you know why I'm here," Lestrade said after nearly a minute of silence.

"You know I bought pie?" Dean asked and smiled. His grin faded when Lestrade didn't chuckle. "You need my help with the case."

"I'm starting to think John was right about you," Lestrade said. He turned back to John. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's drunk," Dean said. "He's drunk and I have a growing migraine and I can't think straight."

"Why was drinking?" Lestrade picked up the nearly empty bottle. "What did you tell him this time?"

"Dean had informed him that he and Sherlock had a mystical accident that resulted in them switching bodies," Cas answered.

"Damn it, Cas," Dean said and smacked his forehead.

Lestrade blinked. "Come again."

"The soul of Dean Winchester is in the body of Sherlock Holmes," Cas said.

"What is he on?" Lestrade asked and pointed at the angel.

"On the floor," Cas answered and stared at the ground. "I'm standing on the floor."

"Is he for real?"

"I am real," Cas said. "My real name is Castiel and I'm an angel."

"That's enough," Dean said and glared at his friend. "Dude what the hell?"

"I also like to know," Lestrade said and stared at the bottle again. "Was John the only one drinking?"

"I will prove it," Cas said and disappeared. Followed by the sound of a bottle breaking.

"Ugh," Dean said and rubbed his head. "Everything he said was-"

"I have returned," Cas said and held up a box of donuts. "This is your favorite?" He stared at the broken whiskey bottle and with a wave of a hand the bottle was restored.

"Good Christ," Lestrade gasped.

"I'm not Christ. My name is Castiel."

"What the hell are you?" Lestrade asked as he backed up into the wall. "How the hell did you do that?"

"He's not lying about being an angel," Dean answered. "Or the fact my real name is Dean."

"This can't be real," Lestrade said as he almost tripped from walking backwards.

"You are denying it but you know deep inside that it is true," Castiel said as he continued to stare at him. "You are aware there are demons out there. Ask yourself if they exist then what else is real."

"Wait," Dean said as he held up his hand in a time out gesture. "What the hell is going on?" He turned to Lestrade. "What does Cas mean?"

"He speaks of the truth," Lestrade said and turned to Cas."You said you are an angel. Are you, are you?"

"He is," Dean said. "And I'm actually an American. I'm not a genius detective. I have a GED. I crack jokes, know my pop culture and enjoy burgers and beer. I drive an 67 Chevy Impala around the states with my brother, Sam and we hunt ghosts, demons and monsters and I kinda got switched with your detective friend."

"I see," Lestrade said and swigged the last of the whiskey. "I'm going to need more."

"Great," Dean said and threw up his hands. "Seriously, Cas, why did you tell him?"

"He is someone who is close to Sherlock. I know he can understand."

"Everyone understands with a bottle," Dean sighed. His headache was getting worse and he felt his nerves getting more and more frazzled.

"Hold on there," Lestrade said after he set the bottle down. "You said you hunt demons?"

"Demons are one of the things we hunt, and you know they are real?"

"I have run into people like you before." He rolled up the cuff of his pants leg and rolled down his sock. A black anti possession tattoo was marked on his calf.