Shoot, Salt, and Sonic

[pudding]

"Hunters?" John asked as he slowly crawled out of the hole. He was doing his best to ignore the whole 'angel' thing. He could deal with that in time. "What does hunting game have to do with Sherlock Holmes? I'll admit his grave is empty but he's dead. Even he wouldn't have waited this long without a sign, something. I mean, we were friends! I think."

[shadow_claw]

Now that was the question he had been waiting for. Dean grinned in an almost predatory way at John. "Who said we hunted game?" He answered. "Because we don't. Again, we wanted to see Sherlock so we could give him this to look into. It's not part of our job description." Maybe this guy was smarter than Dean had originally thought. People usually didn't ask the right questions and panicked or something like that. "My name's Dean, by the way."

[pudding]

John stood up silently, brushed off his trousers then pointed a stern finger at the two of them. "If you're murderers, I'll shoot you," he threatened. Was Sherlock really alive? He was going to get a good punch in the face if he was. "John. John Watson." He looked about then looked at the angel. "If Sherlock is alive, I want to help find him. Either he's going to turn up, or I'm going to be able to sleep at night knowing he's dead. No more grey business."

[shadow_claw]

((So I can give Chic something to do.))

 

Sherlock didn't know where else to go. He understood he was probably going to die if he didn't get help. Which was why he stumbled inside his old flat and ended up collapsing on the second floor. He was too weak to realize that an old acquaintance had come over to visit, and remained unable to get back up.

 

"Again, you wouldn't believe me even if I told you." Dean stated. Murderers? Not really. They saved lives by doing their job. Though, it did involve a lot of killing. The thought didn't exactly concern Dean. "And we'll find him. Dead or alive. It may up being in our job description after all."

[pudding]

John raised an eyebrow then shook his head firmly. "No, I think you should tell me. You barged into my flat earlier, I think I deserve an explanation."

"The Winchesters hunt demons," Castiel replied, looking up at the sky. "Monsters as well."

"Rubbish," John replied, shaking his head. "Monsters? Demons? The closest thing I've seen to that is Moriarty and you're a bit late on the uptake if you were after him."

[shadow_claw]

"See?" The hunter replied, shooting a weary look at Cas. People liked their little version of reality too much to believe the truth. "Aliens and such is The Doctor's business, monsters is ours, and Sherlock had all of the normal people." He added shortly after. Dean picked up the shovel that remained by the grave and rested it over one shoulder. "C'mon, I'll take you back to your apartment and we can handle the big boy stuff."

[pudding]

"The Doctor?" John asked, equally confused. "Doctor who?" He scowled then took a step back, away from the two. "Absolutely not. If there is a chance, even a small one, that Sherlock is still alive, I'm going to find him. Don't think you can just waltz in, burst into my flat, tell me my friend is not dead then expect me to do nothing about it!" He backed up a step further when the angel took a step closer to him.

"We can find him. You should just allow us to return you home." Seeing John had no intention of going willingly, he turned to Dean questioningly. "Should I knock him out?"

[shadow_claw]

Dean frowned and then shrugged in response. "I don't care. He'd be easier to handle unconscious, but it'd piss him off even more once he wakes up. Up to you, as long as he gets back to his place safely." He decided. Really, it was up to Cas. He never understood why Cas had always looked to Dean to make the final call. Maybe it was because he wasn't used to making up his own mind. Maybe he still felt bad for betraying the Winchesters. Who knew.

[pudding]

John stepped back, wishing that he had his gun on him. Unfortunately, he didn't. After a very short thought, Castiel quickly shortened the gap between them and pressed his fingers to the ex-army doctor's forehead. He dropped like a stone and Cas quickly lifted him before turning to Dean and whisking all three of them to the flat.

[shadow_claw]

Like usual, Dean stumbled as they flew back to the flat. He caught himself and recovered quickly afterwards. A glance around the room proved they had guests. There was a blue box, the blue box's owner, and Sherlock was passed out on the floor. Was he passed out? To test this, Dean nudged him with a foot. The former detective whimpered pitifully but kept his eyes closed. "Found him."

[chicbecause]

"Wh- Sherlock!" The Doctor cried as the detective stumbled into the flat. "Oh dear, what have you gotten into now?" He asked, going into the kitchen to get some... There wasn't anything in the kitchen he needed to get. When he came back out he saw Dean and Cas had returned with John. "Oh, good. Help me get Sherlock onto the couch." He grabbed Sherlock's arms and started to pull him over to the couch.

[shadow_claw]

Dean complied with The Doctor's wishes and picked up Sherlock's legs. "Doesn't he have a bedroom? That'd probably be better." He suggested. There was a short hallway hat branched from the den with two doors. Those were probably the bedrooms. He jerked his head in the direction of the hallway. "Let's see if his room isn't over there. We can put John in his room too. Then we can try to sort all of this out."

[pudding]

Cas watched the two deal with Sherlock then looked at the unconscious body tucked under his own arm. In his room? "I'll deal with that," he said curtly before he vanished with John, reappearing in his room. He deposited the unconscious man on the bed and arranged him briefly into a more comfortable position before returning to the main room. "Why are you here?" he asked, turning to the Doctor. Could it be... they were both here for the same reason?

[chicbecause]

"The couch was closer!" The Doctor complained, walking into the hall with Sherlock in tow. "And actually I just popped in for a visit, but it appears as if I might stay a while. I mean, if you don't mind me tagging along." He explained.

[shadow_claw]

Dean stepped inside presumably Sherlock's room and lowered him down on the bed. Everything inside was caked in dust, so chances are it was Sherlock's. The pale man shivered violently once he was let down, and slowly tried to bury himself under the blankets. This seemed to tire him quickly, as he stopped halfway through and went limp yet again. "Is he sick of something? You're a Doctor, Doctor, you should see what's wrong with him."

[chicbecause]

"I'm not that kind of Doctor!" The Doctor said, running his hand through his hair. "But it looks like he has a fever... or a cold... or something. Oh, just go make tea or something! Nevermind! I forgot, you're american!" He said, going back into the kitchen to make some tea.

[pudding]

Castiel followed them inside of the room, observing the shivering detective silently. He leaned over and pressed his fingers against the detective's forehead, hoping that he would be able to solve the problem by healing him. They couldn't have him dying, after all. That would be bad.

[shadow_claw]

Castiel's healing seemed to do the trick, because Sherlock stopped shivering. He slowly opened his eyes to stare up at the two hunters. Oh. It was them. A form of irritation flickered in his half-conscious expression.

"Well, he's alive enough to scowl at us. That's gotta count for something." Dean remarked. John was going to be in for quite the surprise when he wakes up.

[pudding]

Upon seeing the detective wake, Castiel cut straight to the chase. No time fussing about irrelevant things. "We require your assistance," he declared. The rest of the world seemed to forget but he remembered. That strange day when everyone changed and the nightmares beforehand. Angels didn't dream but he saw visions of what humans dreamed off. And now the returning visions, as if warning the return of the man. And a name, mentioned briefly in books. "Do you know anyone by the name of Harold Saxon?"

[shadow_claw]

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as Cas talked. He said nothing, but instead rolled over so his back was facing the two. For once, he didn't want a case. He was tired. This was the first time he'd been on a bed in three years, and damn it, he was going to bed. No American hunter and his pet Angel were going to keep him from sleeping.

[pudding]

Cas stared at the detective silently then turned to Dean. "I presume that is a no. Do you think the Doctor might know anything? These visions are worrisome and nothing I know explains what this... Thing might be or what it wants."

[chicbecause]

The Doctor's head popped through the doorway, followed by the rest of him with a tray of tea in his hands. "Maybe I'll know anything about what?" He asked, setting the tray down on the nightstand.

[pudding]

"I've been having strange visions of a man," Castiel replied. The Doctor was knowledgable. He would probably know something about what he was seeing. "Reoccurring visions. All I know is a name." He paused for a moment as his head tilted slightly to the side. "Do you know about a creature named Harold Saxon?"

[shadow_claw]

"A guy named Harold Saxon." Dean answered. The tray seemed to gain Sherlock's attention, for he rolled back over and slowly sat up. He took one of the cups and slowly brought it to his lips. His hands shook too much and spilled drops of the scalding liquid onto himself.

Of course I know who he is. It was quite the event with Mr. Saxon. Killing the American President and taking over the world with the Toclaphane. A Timelord like The Doctor. Or the time he returned and turned everyone into himself. It seems as if someone else recalls all of this. But of course it has to be you. I am indeed glad I was able to stay hidden both times. Why do you want to know about The Master? Sherlock stated impatiently. He was much weaker than he was letting on, that much was clear in his voice and expression. He was indeed a special case, staying conscious and able to recall both events.

 

((I JUST GOT A GREAT IDEA.))

[chicbecause]

"That isn't his real name." The Doctor said. "And yes, he was my friend. Until he became a madman and tried to kill everyone, what about him?"