Superwholock- Broken Wings

Chapter Eleven- Angels

"We still need to work out what killed your friend," Sam announced, glancing at the Doctor, who was eating a strange combination of fishfingers and custard. His gaze shifted, and Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"The Doctor already knows what did it," he announced, sipping his tea. The Doctor closed his eyes.

"It was a weeping angel," he said hesitantly. Sam stiffened and Dean growled.

"An angel?" he hissed, a long, silvery blue knife appearing in his hand. The Doctor shook his head.

"A weeping angel," the Doctor repeated. "They're aliens." John laughed, and even Sherlock sniggered.

"Aliens aren't real!" John grinned.

"They are. I should know. I am one," the Doctor replied seriously. John started laughing again, but Sherlock looked confused.

"John... he's telling the truth..." he muttered in disbelief. John's laughter died.

"Prove it," he ordered, eyes narrowed.

"I have two hearts," the Doctor informed them. "Check my pulses." John edged forwards and, as Sam did before, checked for two hearts. His eyes widened

"It's impossible!" he breathed.

"Remove the impossible and whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth," Sherlock murmured.

"So... it really was an alien that killed your friend?" John confirmed. The Doctor nodded.

"Of course it was," John muttered. "Cause nothing's ever simple, is it?" Sam snorted.

"When are our lives ever simple?" he laughed. Dean glared at him.

"So, aliens! And they're called weeping angels. Reckon they could still be killed by an angel blade?" Dean wondered, twirling the strange silver knife.

"An angel blade?" the Doctor asked curiously.

"Yeah. They kill-"

"Angels," a gruff voice said behind them. The Doctor's head whipped round, and John reached for his gun. Even Sherlock was startled.

Standing before them was a man of average height. He had scruffy brown hair and penetrating blue eyes. He wore a tan trenchcoat, and watched them stiffly.

"Hey, Cas," Dean nodded to his friend and kicked a chair out. "Come join us." Cas sat in the chair, surveying the group. Sherlock held himself erect as Cas' gaze passed over him.

"I was not aware we were having company," Cas turned to Dean, his monotone voice betraying no emotion. This man disturbed Sherlock- he couldn't read him. He could read everyone. Why not him?

"Yeah, well neither did we," Dean shrugged. "Dude, you've been asleep since Tuesday. It's Thursday." Cas frowned.

"That's... odd. I don't usually need sleep," Cas mused. "Who are these people?" His intense stare once again landed on Sherlock.

"I am Sherlock Holmes. I'm the world's only consulting detective," Sherlock answered. "This is my assistant, John Watson."

"I'm not your assistant!" John protested. "I'm a blogger, and I work with Sherlock."

"Hello. I'm the Doctor," the Doctor smiled cheerily. Cas tilted his head to the side.

"I haven't seen any Gallifreyans since the Time War," he stated. The Doctor looked shocked.

"How do you know about that?" he demanded, unusually sincere.

"I was present during the War. I was commanded to observe it and report back to the garrison," Cas explained. The Doctor paled.

"You were there? Who are you?What are you?" he asked. Cas met the Doctor's eyes.

"I am Castiel, and I am an angel of the Lord," he said. John raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sherlock. Sherlock had a headache- too much illogical information to process. He closed his eyes and nodded. Truth.

A/N: Hey guys! Everyone knows everyone now! Time for the case! You guys enjoying this? I still need my answers from the author's note chapter! I'm gonna give up and do whatever soon. Vote, comment etc. Love you guys 💕💕💕