It hadn't taken that much prodding after their conversation for Gabriel to decide to take the reins and step in to lead Heaven again. The issue for Sherlock was actually getting him to go and do it. It wasn't that he even cared about who ran a place he had never been, it was more of an 'I want the house, aka Earth to myself so dear god, please dad just go to work already'.

"Father, you're being especially irritating currently." Sherlock groaned as he examined the last remains of the experiments that had somehow managed to survive John's cleanout of Baker Street. John had said that it was because Lestrade was supposedly coming over but the raven haired man wasn't going to believe that for a second. Baker Street was the best possible place to conduct experiments in a natural setting. Something that he didn't believe was legitimate if he used his abilities (for he still struggled to call it grace on a regular basis) to create conditions for the experiments to be conducted. He also didn't trust his father to not do something to the apartment while he was off checking in with his networks that could somehow tamper with the results. Gabriel wouldn't do it on purpose, however Sherlock had always been extremely possessive and cautious with his experiments, even if it didn't appear to be so to those around him.

"Geez." Gabriel groaned from where he was sprawled out on the couch. "Didn't you say that you wanted to go investigate the library for information?"

"Didn't you say you were going home to 'play babysitter'?"

"Touché." Gabriel let out a sigh and sat up, swinging his legs to the floor. "But you go look for any mentions of purgatory. The angels are scattered but once I make my grand appearance, they'll be showing up in droves. Keep an ear out on the radio. If anything happens, you announce it loud and clear, I don't give a damn about secrecy if anything is after you."

"I'm not a child." Sherlock replied, turning from his experiment to face the elder angel with a small smile. "However I appreciate your concern."

"No problemo kiddo. Now go do your homework." Sherlock stuck out his tongue in response and Gabriel merely laughed before flying away to directly inside the gates of Heaven.

"Honey! I'm hooommeeee!"


Sherlock finished off taking notes on the results of the vampire fangs before he made himself presentable. Perhaps it was an extenuating quirks from his time as a human, but unlike his father, he enjoyed taking the time to get ready for the day. A physical exercise to allow his mental processes to temporarily zone out which on occasion, was a relief. As he showered and shaved (again, not that he needed to, but it was a comfort) while listening to the angel radio while masking his presence. If it weren't telepathic communications, he would almost feel…domestic. Currently, every angel was speaking over one another in excitement that an archangel, Gabriel of all options, had returned to Heaven and 'let everyone rejoice' and all of the angelic choir stereotypes that Sherlock didn't bother to pay attention to. It still was rather strange to understand a completely different language out of the blue without learning it step by step. His father was attempting to make pop culture references like he usually tended to, but it didn't translate well. Perhaps that's why the Host typically didn't understand humans and their references. They were even more literal than Sherlock was himself.

By time he had finished getting ready and donned his usual attire of dress trousers and a button-up shirt, he had decided that angels weren't that different from humans as a whole, but lacked emotions though right now they were doing a spectacular showing of getting closer. He checked his protections on his bracelets including the tracking one that Gabriel had threatened to fuse to his wrist with grace if he planted it on another demon again.

It was only a quick flight to Egypt where the hidden library was located in a cave that was nearly impossible to reach by human means. An angel who had been fascinated by humans back in ancient times had made their own copy of the Library of Alexandria, going in a vessel every day to the library and memorizing the knowledge only to inscribe every one of the books in enochian until the Library was eventually burned down and the angel had caught attempting to steal the writings of the scribe of Heaven. There was no records of whom the angel was and it seemed that no one was willing to talk about the 'incident' but Sherlock assumed that the poor individual had met an unfortunate end. However, when they had been caught, it was far from the first time that they had grabbed the 'unattainable writings' including copies, according to Gabriel, that had information about Purgatory. Only the top ranked angels knew about the secret library which would explain why the Winchesters didn't know about it because that would be inevitable if Castiel knew.

Sherlock, in the short time that he interacted with Castiel, felt a sort of kinship with him and if the creatures in Purgatory didn't kill him first, he would be an interesting partner to do things with. An angelic version of John, honestly and that wasn't to say he was replacing his blogger. (Oh no, now John in his spare time was writing a fictional book about the supernatural world with a newly promoted angel who used to be human as a protagonist, entirely fictional of course. According to Sam, the protagonist was an asshole but one that people would enjoy, and didn't that make Sherlock feel 'warm and fuzzy' inside.) It was that he realized that he no longer had the opportunity to be around his best friend constantly since the world still believed him to be dead. It was honestly something that even he would admit to have taken advantage of in the two or so years they spent together on Baker Street.

He quelled his thoughts of his flatmate as he gazed intently at the large room he had appeared in. It was easily at least five stories tall, with thousands of tablets and scrolls stored carefully on shelves that spanned on for ages. Judging by the moisture in the air, this cavern had to be pretty deep underground somewhere either near the Nile or near the Mediterranean Sea. Granted, angelic interference spared the ancient scrolls and tablets from nearly 2000 years of decay leaving them pristine.

"Even I can admit that archeologists and scholars would have a field day…" Sherlock muttered as he walked through the aisles to an open courtyard, gazing eagerly at what he could find here.

"Halt. You are not permitted in the library. Leave now Trickster or you shall be dealt with severely."

Sherlock turned around to two guards glaring at him in vessels dressed in Centurion armor. Clearly they had been down here for quite some time.

"My apologies, however I do need to look for something if you'd be willing to help. You seem to be the closest things to librarians here." Sherlock replied, cautiously reaching behind his back for his angel blade. This would be his first true fight since the demon outside of the research lab hadn't counted. Clearly, this wasn't the right thing to say as the two guards charged.


Gabriel had to admit that things were going rather smoothly as he glided back into a leadership position and for once, having things go his way left him hesitant. Things never go this smoothly, especially in the past century in regards to anything related to…well anything supernatural or non-human. So when the angels easily fell into rank and awaited orders, even after the whole 'Free Will' quest of the Winchesters and Castiel. So, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The shoe came in the form of a steel toed boot to the gut in the form of a report over the angel radio that the long-forgotten guards of the Library of Alexandria had caught and eliminated a threat to the holy space.

'Shit, we forgot to change the protections.' He thought as he immediately flew to the location to find out what the hell happened to his son if the guards said they eliminated the threat.

"Sir." The two goons both said with a bow as Gabriel appeared but his attention was immediately on the blood stains on the ground.

"What happened?" He demanded and the guards did not even flinch at the furious look on the archangel's face, believing it to be anger at the intruder.

"A Trickster appeared in the library and was attempting to steal some of the information regarding to Purgatory. That was instantly suspicious due to the Leviathans being released onto Earth recently so we neutralized the threat. The creature appeared to have stolen an archangel blade which we deprived him of and some of the wards he was wearing made him a tough opponent however once they were removed, the wounds stopped him and the intruder disappeared." Grunt One reported while Grunt Two held up a bloody archangel blade and nearly all of the leather bracelets he had given to Sherlock only a few months ago.

Gabriel saw red.

"And you noticed nothing strange about these wards or the fact that the 'intruder' had an archangel blade?" Gabriel asked nonchalantly and the two goons noticed a flare of grace being released into the room that felt like a suffocating pressure.

"No…sir…" Grunt Two replied with a lot more hesitance.

"These are MY wards." Gabriel growled and the two guards paled. "That wasn't a Trickster but an archangel in training that was about to be introduced into Heaven's ranks. He was hidden due to the fact that he is a Cambion and under my protection and care as well as Father's. And now he is who the hell knows where since you removed one of the only things I could track him with while leaving intact the one ward that hid him as an archangel. Were you both assigned here because you were so stupid and incompetent that you couldn't handle a position in a garrison?! Now report back to Heaven while I make sure you didn't kill the last thing Father left us." He snarled and immediately the two disappeared and Gabriel took another strained look at the blood and shreds of cloth on the ground before flying to the Sahara and releasing all of the rage he felt onto the landscape, making sure subconsciously that he wouldn't be decimating some poor sod who would be stupid enough to be in the middle of a desert. Professionals would forever be baffled at the 9.0 earthquake that hit the region, not causing that much damage to property, but could be felt from over a hundred miles away as well as the thunderstorms that flooded the area directly afterwards.

Gabriel then did something that was increasingly becoming familiar but for once was of no fault to the person in question: finding his son.


Mycroft Holmes was having a relatively ordinary day.

Crime had been down around the globe and it honestly felt like certain groups had been wiped off the map. That honestly didn't say much, because the more annoying ones seemed to still pop up out of their holes like the rats they were and took advantage of the disappearance of their competition and became more bold and sooner or later, new groups would appear for some reason or another.

He took a sip of tea as he looked over the reports of the American debt crisis and prayed to whatever higher power there was (he wasn't willing to follow that line of thought to a certain brother's father this early in the morning without something stronger in his tea) that his measures to keep Britain out of it would hold. He also looked over the reports of surveillance of Baker Street. As per agreement with Doctor Watson, he did not place any form of recording device inside the flat, merely observed the outside and the status of all individuals who lived at the residence.

Mr. Tran was assimilating well into his college coursework and the 'British Government' was not surprised that his own choice of university for the boy would be nothing but perfect, especially since he had a security detail that were also trained in the supernatural. He didn't know exactly what was so important, supernatural-wise, about the boy but he owed Doctor Watson quite a deal and this was a drop in the bucket. He promised not to pry and despite what Sher-…his brother would say, he did keep his promises unless safety was in question.

What he was worried about was the new living arrangements that included Samuel Winchester. That was a last name that would raise red flags in nearly any Western country even if they primarily dealt in America. In Mycroft's circles, the general consensus was that they worked as bounty hunters because honestly, didn't the FBI notice the pattern to where they appeared? It was deplorable and yet, not entirely unexpected out of the Americans.

Either way, Mycroft was the only one to know about the supernatural aspect of the Winchester's "missions". Now, with the downfall of Dick Roman, there may be something worth watching in case news spread amongst the general population or within the government across the pond.

For now, Mycroft was content to ignore the problems of the world as he followed his usual morning routine. Well, his modified routine due to the fact that his younger brother was not running about causing chaos. He at least had gotten a hint out of Gabriel that Sherlock's existence had continued on in some form, perhaps in (dare he say it) Heaven. Despite what many would say about the late Consulting Detective, Mycroft sincerely doubted that his brother would end up in Hell.

However, in tried and true fashion, Mycroft's breakfast was interrupted by a figure appearing out of nowhere and falling painfully onto his hardwood floor. Jumping up quickly, Mycroft rounded his desk and his mental walls came tumbling down as he stared into grey-green eyes. His face was bloody and nearly smashed in while large cuts adorned his body that seemed to be glowing a pale blue light. For the first time in his life, Mycroft Holmes felt out of his depth.

"Hello brother dearest. Apologies for crashing in like this." His younger brother rasped before he winced and passed out. Mycroft acted on instinct and whipped out his phone as he stared at the supposedly dead Sherlock Holmes bleeding out in his office.

"Get me Doctor Watson, Samuel Winchester, and a private and confidential medical team to my private office immediately. Code One."