SuperWhoLock

Chapter Four - Supernatural

The Doctor straightened up. "There's different laws of time travel, some don't work, some do. You don't time travel, you wouldn't know." The Doctor said matter-of-factly. "Besides, even if that did happen, time can be rewritten."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the Doctor. "I once idolized you. And idolizing you is what brought me here, causing me to loose my best friend."

"I can fix that, Sherlock!"

"I have little faith in you, Doctor. You can't fix it."

Sam looked over to where Dean was, barely listening to the drama anymore. Dean was quiet. It was very odd for him. He sat in the armchair, back to everyone, his green eyes fixated on the crackling fire.

Sam walked over to the other armchair in a few strides and sat down. Dean didn't stir or even look at Sam. He had his arm sitting on the armrest, propping his head up. He was lightly rubbing his temples and his face had a mixture of several emotions.

Sam finally spoke. "Dean, I'm sorry. Time machines get jacked up, I guess. I don't know why we arrived so late." Dean didn't reply, or even stir. "I feel really bad about this, man. I'm so-"

"Damn it, Sam! I'm not mad at you!" Dean snapped, whipping his head in Sam's direction. "I don't give a crap that you're late! I could've gotten out of here if Castiel zapped me back to the future!"

Sam gaped.

"But no, he answered my first prayer and told me that he couldn't do it because of a curse. But then he wouldn't tell me how to help with the curse and he flapped his feathery ass back to heaven." Dean gritted his teeth. "He never answered my prayers ever again. Why do you think it's angel warded, Sammy?"

Sam stared at the fire in the hearth, a bit mesmerized by the dancing flames. "Cas is waiting outside." He said to Dean.

Dean nodded. "I'll take down the warding. Don't expect me to talk to him though." Dean pointed a finger at his brother and got up.

The Doctor and Sherlock were still arguing. Sherlock seemed extremely emotional, Sam didn't remember Holmes being like that in the books.

Dean went over to an area in the wall where the wallpaper was peeling away a bit and pulled it away, revealing a familiar cult-looking symbol. Dean took a marker out of his pocket and drew a line across it.

He repeated this process a couple other times in different spots in the rooms.

The Doctor and Sherlock had stopped their argument about how time travel works now and Sherlock sat in a chair by the window, looking at his hands. Rose was standing by him, gently rubbing his back and saying that they would get back.

Why did everyone seem so sad? Sam thought only people in the hunter's life would be this dead inside.

Sherlock seemed to think very low of himself. He was broken.

And the Doctor acted like he was alright. But Sam could see past his mask. He was very broken.

Dean and Sam were broken just like the others. Sam closed his eyes and thought back to when they were actually happy. He pictured himself, plucked fresh from Stanford, giving it all up to go on a road trip with his brother to find their dad.

That was so long ago. I hardly remember it.

What was it like to genuinely smile? Genuinely be happy?

Sam got shaken out of his thoughts by someone, Dean.

Suddenly all that was happening around him came into view. Sam stood up. There, in the doorway, were four weeping angels. Teeth bared, claws arched.

Everyone in the room were staring at them, trying hard not to blink. Their eyes watering. Sam whipped his head around towards the doorway, desperate to help them all stare at the angels. How were they going to escape this? They've blocked the door!

Sam silently prayed for a real angel to come and have a chat with these stone freaks who think themselves angels.

And his prayer was answered with the faint sound of wings flapping, and Castiel appeared behind them all. Weaving between the five of them. Cas stood in front of one angel and placed his hand on the statue's forehead.

The statue disappeared in front of their eyes. Cas moved to the next one. "Don't blink." He ordered the others as he placed his hand on the stone angel's head, making it disappear like the other one.

He proceeded to do the same to the third one but left the fourth. "Sam, Dean, do we have any holy oil?" Cas asked, not turning his back on the angel.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "We had some back in the Impala but..." Sam trailed off and Dean's eyes got a faraway look in them, no doubt he missed his car.

Castiel sighed. "I'll find some. Don't let the angel get away, we need to interrogate him."

The Doctor piped up. "She is not going anywhere." He said, grabbing a large mirror off the wall and holding it in front of the statue. "Could anyone get a stand for the mirror?"

Cas rolled his eyes and disappeared. Sherlock grabbed a chair and pushed it over to the Doctor, and the Doctor placed the mirror on top of it.

The angel now stared at its own reflection, locking it in its stone prison.

Rose sat down in a rocking chair near the window, releasing a deep breath.

Sam followed her example and relaxed a bit. But he knew more of the cursed angels would come to get their colleague.

Dean stood by the fire again, playing with a dusty old pocket watch that sat on the mantlepiece.

Castiel returned a few minutes later, holding an ancient-looking clay jar. Without a word, he began to pour the holy oil from the jar in a circle around the angel.

Cas looked at Dean by the fire. Dean sighed a bit and pulled a flaming piece of the log out of the fire and dropped it on the ring of oil, causing it to burst up into flames.

Sherlock skeptically stared at the angel in the ring of fire. "How is that going to help with our situation?" He sniffed.

Castiel opened his mouth but then there was a creaking sound. The sound of stone against stone.

The angel was moving.