Superwholock

Supernatural - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Supernatural

Dean awoke to the sound of the violin. He sat up in a hurry, taking close note of his surroundings. He was in an apartment with a couch pressed against the wall, a fireplace cluttered with books and papers, a desk that had notes scattered across it, and more messy areas. He turned his head to the sound of the violin and saw the man with the dark hair, staring into Dean's face blankly, his fingers moving across the strings of the instrument.

Dean tried to move his legs, but they were tied together. "You have got to be kidding me," he murmured.

"No not at all," the man replied, his voice monotonously deep.

Dean sighed angrily. His legs were bound, he had throbbing in the back of his head, and, oh what do you know? His hands were bound, too. "First Alan, then the taxi man, and now this guy?!" Dean said to the ceiling. "I hate my life."

The man who had hit Dean sat down in the chair across from him, a cup of tea in his hands. He stared at Dean with his gray eyes while he sipped his tea. He pursed his lips after he took a drink. "What's your name?" he asked.

"And why should I tell you?" Dean sneered, "You hit me on the head with your cane!"

"Because I will make you miserable if you don't tell him," Sherlock growled from the back of the room. He was sitting with his back perfectly straight on a long couch. Above him, a large, yellow smiley face was mutilated by holes, but the familiar line that was a smile was still there.

Dean didn't realize it but his own hands were quivering. He tried to avoid eye contact as much as he could, but he always found his gaze landing on the curious eyes of the blonde man.

"My name is Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Well, Dean, what do you think you were doing at a major crime scene?" Sherlock asked him.

"Kicking that one detectives butt," Dean answered with a smirk.

"No you were investigating something, weren't you?" the gray-eyed man asked.

"John, fix me some tea," Sherlock muttered, "I think we need to have a nice, long chat with Dean."

~~

Sam stood at an ATM that was pressed into the wall of a London building. He was trying to exchange a few hundred pounds. Enough to last him and Dean for their little trip. He was pressing random buttons all over the little console. Finally the machine registered something and asked him how much he wanted to withdraw. He took the highest amount that he could and immediately began heading back to where Dean was.

He walked a few blocks, until he could see several officers cleaning the crime scene Dean had gone to. Sam walked across the street, where a police man was rolling up some caution tape. "Have you seen a detective by the name of Agent Rose?" he asked.

"I've seen several detectives today," the man replied, finishing his role of tape. "There's one of them over there."

Sam turned and saw a man with messy brown hair, glasses, and a long brown trench coat over a blue pin-striped suit. He was standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyebrows were deeply furrowed. He was standing by a large pile of glass.

Sam approached him. "Hi, uh, hello, sir. I'm looking for a detective by the name of Agent Rose? Did you see him anywhere?"

"No sorry," the man replied, "Is there something you need help with?"

"I'm looking for him, I'm his partner," Sam replied, "He has brown hair, green eyes, and he's about this tall?" He held his hand where Dean's height was.

"Oh, him. He's with Sherlock and John," the man replied.

"Who?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Come with me, I'll take you to their flat. I'm the Doctor by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Doctor..."

"Just the Doctor," the man said.

Sam nodded slowly, "I'm Sam."

He followed closely behind the Doctor, as he led him into a brick building and up a flight of stairs. There was a door marked 221B. "I think this is their flat," the Doctor muttered.

A man opened the door. "Doctor?"

"Hello, John," the Doctor smiled, "This is Sam. He's looking for a detective. Agent Rose?"

"There is no Agent Rose," John looked at Sam skeptically, "But here, come in." He opened his door all the way and allowed him and the Doctor in.

"So if you're John, where's Sherlock?" Sam asked, walking into the center of the living room. He looked around for any sign of Dean, but so far there wasn't any.

"Well, he isn't here," Sam shrugged, "Thank you though. I guess I'll be on my -."

Just then there was a shout from one of the bedrooms. "Sam!"

"Dean?!" Sam shouted in return, "Dean?!"

He ran through the kitchen and burst through the doorway of one of the rooms. A man with dark hair, who Sam assumed was Sherlock, had Dean tied to a chair, and was just finishing punching his brother in the face.

"Stop!" Sam commanded, before launching at Sherlock. He tackled him and made him slam into the wall.

Sherlock gasped as he fell on his back. He struggled and scratched at Sam, but his surrounding were a complete blur. Sam punched him in the mouth, making Sherlock's mouth bleed. Just then, John and the Doctor scrambled into the room, and John began beating Sam with his walking stick. The Doctor was hesitant of interacting. He looked at Dean, who was sitting in the chair like a sack.

Sam grabbed John's walking stick and threw it to the side, making the man have to stumble for support. Sherlock was on his knees trying to stand himself up against the wall.

They were ready to reengage the fight, when glass shattered on the floor. They all turned to see where the sound came from. Dean was sitting on John's bed and at his feet was a broken vase. "Stop."

They all paused. He had three pairs of eyes trained on him. "My mum gave me that," John muttered.

"Yes, and I broke it," Dean said.

Sherlock looked at him impatiently. "Why should we stop fighting? Why should we trust you?"

"Because my brother and I know what's going on here, and we can help," Dean answered. "And we need to get out of here."

"Why?" John asked.

"It's dangerous here," Sam murmured as he wiped blood from his lip, "And we can explain why if you give us a chance."

By then, everyone had calmed down. John had found his cane and was leaning against it, Sherlock had wiped away the blood that was under his nose and across his mouth, the Doctor didn't look as confused, and Sam was looking at his brother with a relieved look on his face.

"I have a place we could go," the Doctor said, "Somewhere safer."

"We just need to be as far away from apartment 317A as we can be," Dean said, "Where you are going to take us is far?"

"Oh, yes," the Doctor smiled, "Very far."

A/N:

Wow, it has been a while since I have written! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I had fun writing it. So if you look at the 'Who's Reading' box, you'll see that there is one more little space, and I am hoping someone will fill it! You guys are the best, thanks so much for your support! Tell your followers about Superwholock!

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TL4E