Months had passed since their first hunt as a family, Dean and Sam introduced Sherlock and John to Bobby and the two ended up getting along really well. Sherlock's last name gradually faded from 'Holmes' to 'Winchester' as they continued their journeys with the hunters and Castiel. Sherlock had sent word to Lestrade and Mycroft of his 'road trip' with his biological brothers, so no new faces appeared on the 'missing persons' file.

"Do you have to go?" Dean said as he leaned against a London telephone box next to Sherlock. "We still have a few more monsters to gank. You can come if you want."

Sherlock glanced at his elder brother. "Sorry Dean. I should be getting back London soon, you helped John and I take care of the werewolf at Baskerville while we helped you gank monsters all over the U.S. We both owe each other and I know how to summon Cas. So I'll be fine."

The Eldest Winchester glanced down at Sherlock clothing, instead of the baggy jeans and plaid he had begun to wear a while back he was now wearing his old clothing, tight dress shirts and pants, a blazer, and leather shoes, polished to perfection. No one paid any mind to the fact Sherlock Holmes was casually talking to someone or that the fact he was back.

They stood at the door to 221B, a few people waved at Sherlock who ignored them. Dean chuckled and said "You look weird now, clean shaven and dressed up all fancy."

"Yeah, I feel weird too." Sherlock grimaced as he glanced down at his clothing. "Been a while since I've looked like this."

Sherlock rolled his shoulders and walked up to the black door that said 221B and tore off the sign that said 'On Vacation'. He crumpled it up and threw open the door. Dean followed, John was outside talking to Sam and Castiel as the two brothers entered. Sherlock threw open the door and instantly a cloud of dust met the air as he walked in.

Dean coughed and said to his younger brother "Do you ever dust up here?"

"Nope." Sherlock said, he picked up his skull like it was a feather and tossed it into the air before catching it with ease. "Too lazy to anyway, where's the others? I thought they were up here."

"Your sight is getting a bit rusty Sherl." Dean said with a smile as he punched his brother's shoulder. "They're downstairs."

Sherlock glanced out of the window with a narrowed gaze as he saw the three chatting by the street. He gave a slight smile and turned back to Dean "I suppose you're right. You're leaving tonight then?"

His older brother nodded "Yeah, we need to get back to America. If anything knew we were gone, there'd be a lot of people dead. It's better to leave before we're missed."

The Consulting Hunter (Sherlock had taken the liberty to scratch 'detective' from his website link.) nodded sadly, Dean wrapped an arm around his youngest brother while Sherlock shook away his emotions "You're correct. I suppose you should be going, I'd hate for you to miss the lead on the case you're working on. See ya around."

Dean smiled and walked out of the door silently, head down as he passes Mrs. Hudson. The old woman blinked as John waved his final goodbye to the Winchesters and their angel. When he turned around, they were gone. Mrs. Hudson jumped into John's arms, tears in her eyes as she smiled "You're home! You're finally home."

Sherlock stood all the while upstairs, staring out of the window with a lazy interest as the people walked by, a few took notice to Baker Street being open but never stopped. The Youngest Winchester pushed open the window, the curtains whipped around from the wind as he leaned out. He looked out onto Baker Street and blinked, a cold wind blew in the from the East, ruffling his curls. He blinked against the wind and smiled "It's good to be home."

"Hello Sherlock." Said a cold voice from the shadows, Sherlock whipped around, eyes wide at the tone of the commanding voice. The Consulting Detective blinked, Demon Blade in hand as he dropped the dead Demon at the body of the newcomer. "I've been expecting you for a very long time now."

Sherlock blinked, he knew that voice. The same voice that always spoke the truth in his head, the voice that always spoke of angels and fire, the voice that spoke of the illusions of free will, the voice that lied to him for so many moons. Sherlock narrowed his eyes coldly and growled "Michael."

The angel smiled, amber eyes glinting in the darkness of the cabin as he stepped over the bodies. "I never thought you'd become a hunter. Especially one that consults with hunters of the supernatural. Your life is so simple compared to your brothers, they deal with the monsters and you deal with humanity."

"I do what is needed." Sherlock said with distaste. "I've saved lives from doing this and I'll continue until I meet the end."

"Which is coming soon I'm afraid." Michael said, a hint of ice in his tone as he continued on, Sherlock staring at him with wide eyes. "You're going to fall Sherlock. You're going to die, you're going to go out like a candle flame and all of this," he motioned to the bodies of the monsters around them "will be for nothing."

The Hunter physically flinched as he growled "How?"

The angel smirked and said "Moriarty, he's going to tear it all down unless you accept me." Sherlock blinked, he knew the science of vessels but why would Michael ask him? "If you don't you'll die, John will be alone. Sam won't be an older brother anymore...and Dean, let's move to poor Dean. He'll hate himself more and more until he eventually puts the noose around his neck."

"Shut up!" Sherlock snapped, eyes narrowed angrily. "Dean would never kill himself!"

"You've read the deductions." Michael said with a sad smile, Sherlock never noticed he was lying about the grief. "He has so much self-hatred in his heart, how much more do you think he can take? Castiel can't help everything."

Sherlock looked down at his hands, the blade was bloodied and so was his hands. If anyone saw him they'd think him a monster. Michael said "Sherlock, I can help you. It's all I want."

"You're lying." Sherlock snapped bitterly. "I know what you want, you need a vessel to stop your brother and stop the apocalypse. You just need me for that and then you'll throw me away with the trash and the bodies."

"Would you rather it be you or Dean?" Michael said with a flat voice, obviously giving the ultimatum. "I can only chose a vessel from the Winchester blood line and you're the one I've been needing for so long. I've been waiting and so has Lucifer. Tell me, would you really want to see Dean kill Sam?"

"No." Sherlock growled. "When will I die?"

"Two weeks it will begin." Michael said as he glanced at the Hunter. "Sherlock, I can save your life. So, do you say yes?"

The Consulting Detective reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture of John, Dean, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, and him. He gave a low sigh and glanced up as he put the photo away. "Yes, but on my own terms. You save me at the fall."