Chapter 14

John had thought that despite how knackered he felt the previous evening sleep would elude him. He had a lot on his mind. There was the possibility that his friend and flatmate would move to America and assist in hunting strange creatures with Sam Winchester while Sam's brother took up residence in 221 B and work as a consulting detective. He thought of that demon with the shield. He was the one in charge of hell, had everything worked out and was the one who held onto the goblets. There was also the subject of an angel that had some limits to what he can do.

Despite all of that laying on his mind he had drifted off to sleep within minutes of his head touching the pillow. His dreams were devoid of nightmares. He did dream of Anthea in a slinky red dress and high heels attending a concert of someone playing the violin. The dream had ended with the suggestion of breakfast.

It was the scent of breakfast food that woke him up. John rolled over and saw that it was almost nine in the morning. He dragged himself out of bed, showered and slipped into a new set of clothes before he made his descent down the stairs.

Sherlock and Dean were seated at the small table in the middle of the living room, both with newspapers in their hands and both had a plate with hotcakes, eggs and bacon and each had their own mug of coffee. Dean had the mug that Sherlock preferred while Sherlock had one of the few mugs they had in case of guests. There were also a bowl of berries and a small bowl of clotted cream between them.

"Morning, John," Mrs. Hudson's voice rang out as she entered the room with a pot of coffee and John's favorite mug in her hand. She set it down at the table and poured him a cup. "I don't mind having guests but I wish you had informed me earlier."

"Sorry about that," John said as he sat down.

"Dude uncool," the word's came out of Sherlock…or rather Dean's mouth. Did they switch back? He wasn't certain if he had heard right. He needed a cup of coffee.

"It did not seem worth mentioning," Sherlock said. Those were his words and coming out of his lips.

"They arrived pretty late," John explained. "Their visit is a bit of a surprise for us and we didn't want to bother you in the middle of the night."

"It's fine," Mrs. Hudson said as she set a similar plate down in front of John.

"Where are the other two?" Mrs. Hudson asked. "I saw the one wearing an overcoat earlier."

"He seemed upset I believe," Sherlock said and took a dainty sip from his cup and for some reason he held his pinky out.

"Upset?" Dean asked. "Come on dude and be a human being. He found out how his brother died so chill out."

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. "He informed us he would only take a minute." He sat back and tilted back his head until his nose was in the air like a stereotypical snob.

"Still uncool man."

"Is Sam still asleep?" John asked and leaned back in his chair to stare into the kitchen.

"Sammy? Naw bro wakes early for sit ups he wants to be an awesome beefcake, but that aint no use since he don't hunt for chicks." Dean used the fork and stabbed one of the eggs before shoving the entire thing his mouth before drinking a long gulp from his mug and belching.

There was a loud stomp under the table that caused it to shake. Sherlock had his teeth clenched and shooting daggers at Dean.

"Oh sorry dudes," Dean said as he licked his teeth. "Excuse me."

"Mr. Winchester your table manners are at most inexistent and deplorable," Sherlock said in a low growl. " I am so disgusted with you that I can't even think. You will apologize to everyone in here, especially to Mrs. Hudson."

"Don't worry about it, dear," Mrs. Hudson said as she gave Sherlock a gentle pat on his shoulder. "This poor boy is adjusting to the time zone. They don't feed them right on jet flights." She straightened her back and turned to the kitchen only gasping and stepping back when she saw Sam Winchester standing there.

"Morning," Sam greeted as he stepped into the room. "What's going on?"

"Breakfast bro," Dean said and motioned at the table. "Mrs. H here is one hell of a cook."

"Thank you for the compliment," Mrs. Hudson said and turned back to Sam. "You must be Dean's big brother." Her smile faded at the chuckle that came from Sam and the amused snort from Dean. Sherlock had blinked and mouthed a "what".

"I'm the younger brother," Sam said.

"Oh sorry I just guessed that since you were the taller one you were the older one," Mrs. Hudson said.

"Mrs. Hudson please leave the deduction business to me," Sherlock said.

"Yeah Sammy is like a total baby compared to me," Dean added.

"Are you feeling all right?" Sam asked as he looked up.

Once John had caught the gaze of Sam he nodded to Sherlock and then at Dean before mouthing. "They switched back."

"Really?" Sam asked before he sat down. "You didn't have to go through all that trouble, Mrs. Hudson."

"No trouble at all," Mrs. Hudson said. She filled up another mug for Sam and set a plate down for him. "Now let me know when your other friend returns and I'll bring him some food. I have a few things to take care of down stairs first."

As soon as she left Sherlock gave Dean a kick under the table causing everything to rattle.

"What was that for?" Dean asked.

"I do not talk like that," Sherlock said his accent shifting towards more of an American one. "Every other word out of my mouth is not dude. I also don't shove food down in one bite and I don't belch out loud."

"Excuse me," John said as he caught on and looked at them. "Have you two switched back or not."

"We haven't switched, John," Dean—no it was Sherlock had said. "We were only pretending to be each other less Mrs. Hudson becomes suspicious and as for you Dean I do not hold my fifth finger out like that when I drink my coffee or tea. I also do not sit back like an upper class twit."

"Dean you do shove food down your mouth," Sam said as he put a spoon of sugar into his cup.

"Sherlock you are from an upper class family and sometimes you are a twit," John informed him.

"I don't eat a whole egg in one bite," Dean said as he cut his egg in quarters. He had already seasoned it with salt and pepper. He took one section on a fork and ate it along with a bite of hotcakes.

"He's right," Sam told Sherlock. "He doesn't, but that is a good idea with trying to learn how to be each other at least for now."

"There is a possibility we have to be each other forever," Sherlock said and brought up the newspaper to cover his face. "We have yet to uncover anything that proved to be useful in our investigation on the matter."

"You found nothing?" John asked as he stared at Sherlock only to have David Cameron stare back at him from the front page.

"I did look up some of our contacts back home," Dean said as soon as he had swallowed what he was chewing. "Found some names of witches and mediums we knew. I even contacted that Gary kid in Massachusetts, Sam. The one that switched with you back when the apocalypse was happening."

"Apocalypse," John repeated the word. Dean had told him about how he, Sam, Castiel and their father figure were able to stop it from happening. It was hard to think about how he was in a hospital room, recovering from the shell blast to his shoulder when Armageddon was about to happen half the world away and these boys stopped it.

"Did you neglect to tell John?" Sherlock asked as he lowered the newspaper until only his jade green eyes appeared over the edge.

"He told me," John said and took a sip from his cup. "Told me everything I needed to know. It's just the whole idea that we were close to such disaster and we lived. Sherlock we and the rest of the world are alive and it's thanks to these two boys."

"We are not that younger than you," Dean said. "And I'm older than Sherly here by a couple of years."

"Do not call me Sherly."

"This is what we are doing?" Sam asked. "Just sit around and make up names and wait."

"We are doing more than that, Sammy," Dean said and used his fork to pick up the last of his bacon. "We are having a nice breakfast."

"Do you understand how severe this is?" Sam's voice was growing. "Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in this body? Are you tired of being with me? Is this really what you want?"

"Just chill, Sam," Dean said. "Better yet drink your coffee. I don't want to deal with you when you are acting like this right now." There was another amused snort from Sherlock and a uncomfortable cough from John.

"Why don't you just answer?" Sam asked.

"I don't want to be Sherlock if that is what you are asking. I did think about leaving the life, but how many Hunters have never entertained that thought? I'm not tired of you. Did you know what my main goal was, what drove me the most to get out of purgatory and trust me it wasn't those uglies with the fangs and claws it was you. I had a feeling you would be lost and I missed you Sam. Cas and I missed you and I will miss you again. I'll miss Kevin and Benny, even though you don't give a crap about him. I'll even miss Garth and that damn sock of his."

John had been half listening to the drama. He had been through similar spats with Harry and he was sure that even Sherlock similar fights with Mycroft. He noticed that his flatmate was still buried behind the damn paper and not because the argument had upset him but because in all likeliness he found it to be boring.

"So what are we going to do?" Sam asked before he took a bite from his breakfast.

"Keep on looking," Dean answered. "We look, we wait for our contacts to reach us and we wait for Cas, and if possible think of a way to trick Crowley for the goblets."

"Remember we only have until the next full moon, Dean," Sherlock said without even lowering the paper.

"Until the next full moon?" John asked as he stared at the print. "When were you going to tell me all this?"

"I just did and Mrs. Hudson is returning."

"How did you know?" John asked.

"The sound of her shoes striking the floor," Dean answered. "It has a distinct sound. There is also a jingle from her keys which is getting louder as I speak."

"Boys," Mrs. Hudson called out as she entered the room. "Has the other one returned yet?"

"He's still kinda depressed," Sherlock said. He had the newspaper folded and placed across his lap and his hands behind his head. "This was one very yummy breakfast Mrs. H."

"I am glad you like it, dear." Mrs. Hudson smiled and turned to Sam. "Are you enjoying it?"

"It's delicious, thanks," Sam said before he took another bite.

"I hope you enjoy your stay in London. Where in America are you from exactly?"

"All over," Sherlock answered. "Dad was in the army and we moved around a lot."

"We originally were born in Kansas," Sam said. "And we have a nice cabin in Montana."

"Are you two the outdoors type?"

"Chopping wood feels, good man," Sherlock said before taking another large bite.

"We both work outside but we also travel a lot," Sam told her. "We also solve cases."

"You both are detectives?" Mrs. Hudson said and there was that aha look in her eyes, as if she made a connection between the two brothers and Sherlock.

"They are private investigators," Dean said. He was now the one who had a newspaper covering his face. "They specialize in the strange and unusual. They go after cases that seem to involve something otherworldly or the supernatural if you will, but each case ends with a simple explanation or a few tricks from either murderer or thief, or in some cases both."

"Like that cartoon," John said and held up a finger. "Scooby doo."

"But without the costumes," Sam added.

"Or hot red head chicks," Sherlock said with a grin.

"That does sound quite exciting," Mrs Hudson said and took away Dean's empty plate. "Does anyone need a refill?"

"Mrs Hudson, we are fine," Sam said. "And I thought you were the landlady."

"Oh I am." She shook her head. "You see, Sherlock? Your guests understand better than you do."

Dean said nothing. The only sounds were chewing and gulping and a soft sigh from Mrs Hudson before she left.

"That was well done," John said. "It almost did seem like you both were your old selves again. That was also a good cover story, Dean."

"Sammy and I pride on our cover stories," Dean said as he tossed the paper aside. "So you think we can have everyone fooled?"

"Everyone but Molly and Greg," John said.

"They know?" Sherlock asked. "How did they know?"

"Molly has read these Supernatural books," John said heard a sickened groan from Sam. "Castiel told Greg."

"He also has an anti-possession tattoo on his leg," Dean said. "Molly knows who we are. She doesn't know that I'm wearing the guy she has a crush on and vice versa."

"I knew he had something," Sherlock said. "He's always trying to hide it and cover it up." His smiled faded. "We do not tell anyone else."

"Mycroft?" John suggested.

"Especially him. This is the last thing I want him to know."

"I have to tell him something," John told him. "He knows something is up. Yesterday morning he noticed Dean wasn't you. I had convinced him it might be a form of amnesia, but I have no idea if he bought it or how long he will believe it.

"He's your brother," Dean said slowly. "If we can't reverse it he should have the right to know."

"He will figure it out," Sherlock said and sighed. "He always figures it out."

"Molly knows about us and Cas—and Sam you look constipated," Dean said.

"How did that fandom get over here?" Sam asked as he buried his head in his hands.

"The Internet," Dean sighed. "All of the books are there, including the ones that didn't get published. That's how Cas found out about Gabe. He read about the part after we left with Kali."

"Gabe?" John blinked. "You don't mean Gabriel."

Dean nodded. "Gabe called Lucifer a bag of dicks, said he loved humanity tried to trick him…and was stabbed in the back." He sighed again. "Guess he was a good guy after all."

"Damn," Sam said and shook his head.

"Can't destroy those books," Dean said. "Don't know if we are ever going to get back our bodies." He sat up. "Sam lets go out."

"What?" Sam and John asked at the same time.

"I thought you were going to do more research," John said and looked over to Sherlock who had his nose in the bleeding paper again.

"You and Sherly can start," Dean said as he stood up. "Sam and I, well we are our tourists and we want to look around your beautiful city."

"Seriously?" Sam asked.

"Come on, Sam. If it is a lost cause I don't want to spend it reading books. I want to look around, visit Big Ben and the Tower Bridge. I want to see the Crown Jewels and go to the Natural History Museum."

"Why that one?"

"It has dinosaurs."

"It's not really fair to them," Sam said as he pointed at John and Sherlock.

"Go on," Sherlock said without dropping the paper.

"You don't care if they go?" John asked his friend.

"I will have an easier time of looking for what we need if I am alone."

"You want me to play tour guide?"

"You have to be at work in an hour, doctor," Sherlock reminded him. "It is Tuesday."

"Shit," John said and checked his watch. He did have to be at work in an hour. He had promised to lead a group of students around. "Sorry men. You two enjoy your tour. I'll see you both this evening." He dashed back up to his room. He still had to brush his teeth, put on deodorant and cologne and shave before catching the tube.