Chapter 19

"Fucking Crowley," Dean sat up from where he had stretched out on the floor. It almost seemed like his soul was attached to an elastic chord and the other end was Sherlock's solid body. He stared at his hand before glancing back at his own body. Sherlock was also sitting up and looked just as disappointed as he was.

"I'm sorry," Claudine said softly. "I had no idea if this was going to work as you thought it would. I wish you achieved the results you wanted."

"You did it wrong," Sam stormed up to her. "You did the spell wrong."

"I did it correctly," Claudine said. "But if you actually listened to my suggestion in the first place then maybe-"

"Maybe nothing," Sam interrupted her and stared down at her. "You said you could help. You said you could put them back."

"Do you even have any idea what you were doing?" John asked. He had been leaning against the frame of the kitchen entrance. "We should have researched more into this. We should have looked at her credentials."

"They were out of their bodies," Claudine said. "You paid for the two of them to spirit walk. You were under the assumption that by just walking out of their bodies they would be able to climb back into their own and stay there. Magic doesn't work that way."

"It doesn't work that way because you did it wrong," John thundered. "You were our last hope. You were supposed to be the one to set things right. You are nothing but-"

"John, stop it," Sherlock ordered as he stood up. "We did get what we had paid for. Dean and I were able to leave our physical forms. There was no telling if this method was going to work."

"Cas saw us," Dean said as he gave his angel friend a pat on the shoulder. "Right?"

"They were able to spirit walk."

"I have brought many out to the astral plane before," Claudine said in a shaking voice. Her eyes were set on a deathglare that is aimed at both John and Sam. "One of you best be getting back into the kitchen before all the water boils away."

"Excuse me?" Sam asked. He was still seething.

"I agree with him," John said. "This is my flat and you do not order me around and tell me to check on the bleeding kettle when it's not even-" the sound of the tea kettle whistle cut him off.

"John, serve the tea," Sherlock ordered.

"You are not backing her up now?" John asked in an alarmed tone.

"John, stop arguing for our sakes," Sherlock said. "Please stop."

"But Sherlock can't you see that…"John trailed off after he got a good look at Sherlock's face. "I'll get the tea."

"Foolish men," Claudine said under breath. "I try to give the right advice and they refuse to listen, but when it doesn't work they blame you." She shook her head and stormed out.

"Great," Dean said as she walked out. "That's just great."

"Let her go," Sam said. He had calmed down a bit. "She's useless."

"Maybe we will all feel better after a hot cuppa," Dean said while trying not to let his frustration grow. He was developing another nicotine craving and walked over to the skull where he had placed a few patches. He was going to work on weaning himself off that.

"Hot cuppa?" Sam just looked at him. "Are you giving up?"

"Yes," Dean said and squeezed his eyes to hold back the tears. "My name is Sherlock Holmes. I have an older brother named Mycroft who works for the government. I live in 221 B with my roo—flatmate John Watson and our land lady is Mrs. Hudson. I am a detective a consulting detective with New Scotland Yard and I speak with DI Greg Lestrade and him only because he doesn't annoy me." The last words came out in a rasp as his voice cracked. He looked up to see that Sam is right in front of him. "I'm gonna miss you, Sammy."

"You are and always will be my brother," Sam said as he placed his hands on his shoulder. "Now with that out of the way, suck it up and snap out it. We are not giving up."

"Sam," Dean choked out.

"Every time we were about to give up we get a new idea, or something new comes up-"

"And gives us false hope," Dean pushed him out of the way. "I'm tired of running around looking for solutions that are not there. I've had enough. I just want to live and if it's going to be like this well then it's going to be like this."

There was a shattering sound of a cup breaking in the kitchen.

"Oh look what you have done now," John shouted. "That was one of our nicer guest cups."

"You will go to the shop and buy another set," Sherlock's said. "And you were the one who dropped it."

"It slipped."

"Only because you were not paying attention."

"I would be paying attention if some arrogant prat wasn't telling me to let it go, Sherlock. I'm not going to just let you leave."

"We have exhausted all avenues, John," Sherlock said as he left the kitchen carrying a tray and six cups of tea. "If we keep pushing we might not like the results." He set the tray down on the coffee table.

"I refuse to accept it," John said as he brought out a bowl of sugar cubes and a carton of milk. "Sorry if you were expecting cream but this is all we had."

"I really don-" Sam had started.

"Just enjoy a cup," Dean said as he placed some sugar in his. "I agree with Sherlock and this happens to be our lives. We'll just train each other a little better before we have to live them."

"You might not have to," Cas had said as he walked back into the apartment. Dean hadn't noticed that he had left. "Claudine is speaking with witches in the area. One might help."

"I thought she left," Sam said.

"She needed to cool off for a minute," Cas explained. "She is on her cellular phone and calling some of the witches that she knows, or aka people she had suggested before." He used his fingers to make quotation marks around aka. There is still a lot for him to learn about the world.

"But you said Crowley got all the books and stuff," Dean said before he took a sip from hs tea. It was as delicious as before. John really did brew a good tea.

"Some witches have demon proofed their homes," Castiel explained. "Mostly those who practice white magic as they did not wish to associate with those stains."

"Yeah," Sam said and raised a finger. "They put demon traps under rugs in the doorways, keep devil's shoestring and salt around windows then Demons can't enter. We might have a way."

"Last one, Sammy," Dean said and held up his finger. "Promise me that if this doesn't work then we are done."

"Dean I-"

"Just promise me." He snapped the response while staring deep into his brother's hazel eyes. Sam had his bitch face on and nostrils flared twice.

"Fine I promise."

"Thanks," Dean said and turned to Sherlock. "This okay with you, Sherly?"

"I am fine with this possible and final solution," Sherlock answered. He had sat back down in his chair with his legs drawn up, feet on the edge and palms pressed together. "I do wonder why Castiel was unable to enter their homes."

"I…" Cas almost seemed to have paused and stared into space for a second. "I did not think of searching the homes of witches." His tone was unconvincing. Dean still couldn't figure out why he was staring into space all those times. Castiel seemed not to remember any of those times when his mind wandered into Lala land.

"You are hiding something," Sherlock accused.

"Easy," Sam said and held up a hand. "Cas is probably covering the fact that there were probably some sigils in enochian that kept him from entering."

"Yeah witches can be paranoid about angels," Dean said before he drank a little more of his tea. "Can't say that I blame them." He appreciated the fact that Sam had stuck up for Cas, then again his brother always seemed to try to be on Cas's side even when Dean was suspicious of him.

"Success," Claudine said as she walked into back into the room with her arms raised and her Hello Kitty phone in her right hand. "My friend Abby will be able to help. She's a white magic witch. She tries to avoid the dark stuff but keeps books and a few items just for study purposes, but she would be willing to do such a spell. It will cost you though and it would be more than what I ask for."

"How do we know you are not lying?" Sam asked. His brow was furrowed and hands were on his hips.

"Because if I was lying you would track me down and you and the short one would break down my door," Claudine answered. "I want you to succeed. London can't survive with some cocky idiot riding around inside the great Sherlock Holmes can we?" She glanced over towards the direction of Sherlock. "Even if the fool has a pretty face and a squeezable arse." She handed two slips of paper over to Cas. "One is Abby's number and the other is mine." She winked at the angel before she approached Dean. "I only received half my payment."

"Right," Dean said and pulled out Sherlock's wallet. He handed her the remaining bills that was part of her payment. "Oh and for that idiot comment, bite me."

"I'd do that for free," Claudine said with a wink and walked out the door.

"Good riddance," John 's remark had cut through the silence that hung in the air five minutes after the psychic had left. "I can't believe we paid her for basically nothing. You all heard all that rubbish that she was spouting."

"What is it with psychic ladies?" Dean asked before glancing in the mirror. "I think she wants a piece of you too there, Sherly."

"Do not be ridiculous," Sherlock said. He was still in that thinking crouch. "We do not need to dwell on superfluous thoughts."

"He is right, Dean," Cas said as he looked at one of the numbers. "We should check out this witch."

"You gonna just poof us there?" Dean asked. He noticed the way that John and even Sherlock were looking at him and remembered what poof meant in the U.K. "Teleport."

"Carrying four of you at once might be a little difficult," Cas explained.

"I am not certain if I want to teleport," John said.

"Would be an interesting experience," Sherlock said as he rose to his feet. "But perhaps it would be for the best if the four of us humans took a cab and Castiel could meet us there."

"That would be for the best," Cas said and vanished.

"He's already there," Dean said. "We will give this a try and Sam this is the last time." He didn't even bother to wait for a retort from his brother before he stepped out. He would of continued if he remembered they were not ready. "We need to be prepared before we leave."

"How are we going to be prepared for facing a witch?" John asked.

"We have to make sure we have silver, salt, holy water and salt bullets," Sam explained.

"Looks like we are going to make a stop at a church on the way," Dean said and took one more glance of himself in the mirror. He hoped it would be the last time he saw the refection that was not his own.

Claudine informed them that her friend, Abby lived in the south of London. It was a long drive and the sun had nearly set by the time they reached the neighborhood of the witch. There was something not right with the area. There were two tow headed children playing with a jump rope in front of the house across the way from Abby's. There was also someone walking their dog down the sidewalk and another person watering their lawn two houses down.

"There is something wrong," Sherlock had said after a quick glance around.

"I'm not surprised you see it too," Dean said.

"What is it?" John asked.

"Two school children playing outside," Sherlock began. "They are still wearing their uniforms, unusual since they are home and have been home for hours. They would have had time to change into something more comfortable and would not mind getting dirty."

"That woman walking her dog," Dean said. "The dog is trailing behind and bristling its back at its owner. She is walking away from us but she can see us through her compact mirror. Then there is that guy over their watering his grass when it had rained earlier today and there was a light drizzle today and another shower expected tomorrow and this aint the south west during the middle of August."

"We are being spied upon?" John asked as he looked around. "But two of them are children."

"Not children," Sam said catching on. "Those are demons."

"Oh good demons," John smiled weakly. "How do you suppose we are going to deal with them."

"We kill them," Sherlock said in a precise tone. "Sam has brought his knife."

"I brought it but I'm not using it on those kids," Sam said.

"No one is icing any kids," Dean said as he dismissed with his hands. "Where the hell is Cas?"

"I don't see him," Sam said.

"Surely you don't suggest we stay in this car and wait for him," Sherlock said.

"We move," Dean ordered. " Now." He stepped out of the cab and just as he thought the man watering his lawn looked over his way and the children stopped playing.

"John, pay the man," Sherlock ordered as he stepped out.

"Only four not good," Dean muttered as they walked to the house. It would be too easy. He was not surprised Crowley had anticipated they would seek out witches, but why not more. Well duh even Crowley wouldn't know which witch they were going to seek out so he had them spread out.

"How did Crowley know?" John asked.

"He sent his soldiers out to steal everything that we could use to change back," Sherlock told him. "They cannot enter a house that has devil traps set up."

"Demons sense they can't enter and they tell their boss," John said as he put the clues together. "And now they are coming towards us."

"Get ready," Dean said. He slipped his hand into a pocket and felt the pistol.

"Now," Sam had said as both John and Sherlock spun around and doused two of the demons with holy water. As the two adults reeled back in pain Dean shot one in the chest with a salt bullet. Sam tackled the other and plunged the knife into his neck.

"Dean Winchester," the little girl said. "You are a very bad boy."

"Uncle Crowley told you the rules," the boy said. "You are breaking them."

"That's cheating," the girl said. "You should be punished."

"Oh no," Dean said as he shook his head. "I know when you black eyed sons of a bitches-"

"You said a naughty word," the girl gasped.

"Whenever your kind possess kids you all like to play cute, but you can cut the crap right now."

"Well if you insist," the boy said as both their eyes turned black.

"Douse them," Dean shouted as he was thrown against a window. "Sam!" He heard the sound of two more bodies flying through the air along with gunshot. Dean slid down and looked over to the children were they were on the ground and bleeding from the salt rock.

"They are not going to die?" John asked slowly as he lowered the rifle. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do."

"Nice shot," Sam groaned as he stood back up.

"You did not have a choice," Sherlock said as he rolled over in the grass. "We have to get inside and-"

"See me?" A voice came from the open door. A black woman around the age of twenty nine stood in the doorway. "Claudine told me you would be arriving as soon as possible. Now get in here before those two wake up."

"Come on," Dean ordered. He ran into the house first and paused when he saw the shotgun that was aimed at him.