Monsters Aren't Real (Superlock)

Chapter 18

Sherlock was only accompanied by the sounds of the rain which was drumming on the roof. He could hear the water leaking through the broken walls and cracked ceiling. The only light he had was that from the lamp post outside, which was shining through the windows. Luckily for him, it was enough to see the ground clearly. Yet, it seemed that he had led himself to a dead end. The floor was dirty enough that his target had left footprints, but those footprints just seemed to wander around the site instead of going to a certain destination. They didn't lead to a hidden stash of weapons, or to any disposed evidence. No, it looked like Dean had just taken a stroll inside and around the building without any cause or destination himself.

Every minute Sherlock spent in the damp building, the feeling that John's trail was growing colder and colder grew bigger. And while he was still following the muddy trail of the Winchester, his mind was already busy deciding his next step. The Winchesters were connected with a murder about a week ago, for some reason they had decided that they needed all the stuff Kevin had on him the day he was killed. Kevin, a man who had been killed by a feline, very possible that it was some kind of gang retribution attack. Also, the Winchesters had faked their death and were active in the US acting as terrorists without an obvious motive.

Sherlock had gone over the facts so many times, and every time a new puzzle piece was found it made less and less sense. Normally, by figuring out what his target's motives were, he could unravel what their next step was going the be. But the Winchesters acted at random. If their only objective was to retrieve the belongs of Kevin than their next logical step was to leave the country as soon as possible. If they had been intimidated by him and John when they had followed them through the alleyways, they could've taken care of him when he had been laying unconscious on the ground. Instead, they had left him for the authorities to find. Only to go after John a day later.

It made no sense, yet. He would figure out their agenda the moment he had found them. Even though the trail was growing colder, Sherlock was only warming up. He had alerted the rest of his homeless network. The moment one of the Winchester brothers set a foot outside of London, he would know. He considered his next steps.

1. Stay here and try and try to figure out why Dean Winchester had decided to return to the crime scene last night

2. Head out and meet up with Lestrade which would grant him access to London's police corps.

3. Ask Mycroft for assistance

4. Don't ask Mycroft for assistance but impersonate him and hack into London's surveillance cameras to figure out where the Winchesters had been.

Sherlock crouched down and inspected a place where Dean had halted for a minute, apparently something had taken his interest. While inspecting the ground he came to the conclusion that option 4 was the obvious way to go. But before he could actually execute his plan, he heard the click of a safety mechanism being disabled on a gun.

It didn't take a genius to figure out who was holding said gun.

Slowly Sherlock got up from the ground and turned around, making sure he didn't make any sudden movements.

"Dean Winchester, you just made this evening a lot less complex by showing up."

Dean stood before him, his wet hair was stuck to his face and his leather jacket was shining from the water. His shoulders were tense and his burning cold eyes drilled his. He looked eerily similar like the murderers in teenage horror movies. In his hand, Dean held a gun Sherlock recognized as his own, and it was pointed right at his face.

"Really?" Dean sneered, his eyes not moving from the unarmed man before him. "I was hoping to make it just a bit more difficult."

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