His Fall- A SuperWhoLock Fic

"Good bye John"




"SHERLOCK!!"




The doctor had called the Winchesters, and had only said two words in between the silent tears
"he's gone"
Sam and Dean had rushed to London, Dean not even thinking about putting up a fight about flying there. They had gotten there in time for the funeral, the doctor walking out from behind a tree no doubt were he had hidden the TARDIS .
They stood together, the Winchester brothers and Cas beside The Doctor, all standing just behind John.
None of them had seen the figure standing in the shadows watching them.




"… Don’t. Be. Dead…"





Once they had gone back to the flat, were John was still staying at the moment, Dean had turned on Castiel.
"Cas! Miracle. Now"
"I can't, Dean" was all he said before blinking out.
Dean was furious, punching a hole in the wall before Sam rushed over and just held him while they both mourned the lose of their friend.

A few days later the Doctor was in his TARDIS. His hands braced on the console while he bent over it, completely lost and hurting. Hurting so badly. He had experienced this pain to much in his lifetimes, he had hoped that he could have stopped this.
He could have saved Sherlock.
But the most important part of the plan had never showed his face.
The flutter of wings announced the arrival of Cas, who had not shown his face since Dean had punched the wall.
He slowly turned, burning rage crawled under his skin, killing off any other feeling until he couldn't hold it back anymore.
"Where were you!?" he yelled at the angel, fury bubbling over as he stalked forwards, "When ever you called, I was there! Where were you when I needed you!?"
The angel stood stony faced and stared down the doctor
"My superiors had began to question my loyalties"
"WE COULD HAVE SAVED HIM!" the Doctor roared at Castiel, shoving his chest and pushing him meters away. He was one of the only people besides angels and demons who could do that, who had that much strength. But right now, he didn’t care.
"WE COULD HAVE! WHERE WERE YOU!?" tears had started to spill from the doctors eyes, because it was true. They could have saved Sherlock.
" I have lost so much! Lost things you wont ever understand! I have seen things you will never believe! How many times have we saved this world and any other! How many years have we lived and fought side by side! I knew you since the beginning! I saw you created! And you do this to me! "
The doctor paused for a moment, sucking in deep, ragged breathes as he glared at the angel, his oldest friend.
"I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THERE FOR YOU! WHERE WERE YOU!?"
But it was to late know. You cant change the past. What was the point in being able to travel through all of space and time if he couldn't go back to save one person?
He knew there was no point in yelling at the angel, but what else was the desperate man meant to do?
If Castiel was there when the Doctor needed him, there still would have been time! But he never showed.
Castiel hadn't answered him, instead choosing to stare at the Doctor.
"How dare you" he whispered to Cas.
The angel had the ordassity to look confused, tilting his head slightly
"How dare you come here. After all that you have done."
The Doctor crumbled to his knees where he stood, bowing his head and closing his eyes. There was something else left over when the rage burned out, he didn’t know how to identify it as he had never had this emotion before. He thought back, thinking of all the emotions he had felt and all those he hadn't. a tear left his eye when he realised what it was. He didn’t want this emotion, he wanted it gone. He never wanted it to rear its ugly head again.
"Leave" he whispered, "and don’t ever think of coming back"
He didn’t hear Cas leave, but he knew he was alone. Alone with this terrifying emotion, it swam through his blood with a hot touch and clawed up his throat like with a feral cry that erupted from his throat with a strangled gasp.
He didn’t want this. He wanted someone to come take it away, the pain, the sadness and the… the hate.
The hate for himself.
The hate for Cas.

Dean was the first to find out.
He stared at Sherlock from across the few meters were the stood in the forest.
They didn’t talk for many minutes, Sherlock watching Dean closely for the coming attack and Dean openly staring as his dead friend.
"Your not real" he whispered, shaking his head slightly and clenching his eyes shut
Turning slowly and walking away without looking back as unshed tears welled in his still closed eyes
This was a joke. Sherlock was dead and he wasn’t coming back, as ghost or human.
He didn’t tell anyone about his brief encounter, still not quite believing it himself.
Until one day, Dean decided to take matters into his own hands.
He paid for a hotel for one night and summoned Crowley there.
"Hello, darling" he said before he even saw Dean
He knew who summoned him, he was the bloody king of hell for gods sakes. But he was defiantly surprised to see the broken husk the Dean Winchester had turned into. He sat hunched over on the edge of the bed and didn’t move when Crowley appeared.
"Dean?" Crowley asked, relatively surprised that he wasn’t in a demon trap. He tried not to let the emotion bleed into his voice, but it was rather hard.
He had been shot at, stabbed, yelled bad names, tortured, burned, trapped and been sprayed with gallons of holy water by these boys and it was hard not be considered some sort of distant family.
"Is Sherlock dead?" came the harsh whisper
Crowley sat in a chair opposite Dean and put his drink down. He rubbed his face and looked back at Dean
"I have searched hell for that bastard, I shouldn’t even have to being king and all, but I did anyway. He's not there. He might be topside"
"Or alive" Dean said after a moment of silence. The whisper was so quite Crowley wasn’t sure if he had heard it
"What?"
"He could still be alive" Dean looked up at Crowley, and he almost winced as he took in his face. There were dark circles under his eyes and he hadn't shaved in days, his complexion was pale and sickly and his eyes were no longer bright.
"I don’t know, I haven't searched" he said with a shrug
"Can you?" Dean said with a pleading look
"Fine" Crowley said grumpily, knowing he would have done it without the pleading look.
He disappeared in silence, letting Dean sit alone in the dark room with a bottle of whiskey.

Sherlock ran down a dark alley, breath laboured and his long coat whirling around his ankles. He untied his scarf and shoved it in his pocket while he ran, breathing in deeper with out the material restricting the air intake.
He turned a corner, slipping slightly in the rain that was pooling in puddles as it fell from above. He kept running though, he couldn't stop yet.
Because they had found him.
The black eyed demons that Dean and Sam so often hunted.
They were on his trail, they hadn't yet seen his face but he knew they would eventually.
And that was the only think stopping them from going back to Crowley and telling him that Sherlock lived.
He never meant for Dean to find him. It was a stupid accident that should have been stopped earlier.
Why had he gone back!?
But he already knew the answer. He always knows the answers.
Because he needed so see them. At least one of them.
His thoughts were cut short when a man in a dark suit appeared before him.
He couldn't see his features in the dark and through the rain, but he already knew who this man was even though they had never previously met.
"Crowley, I presume?" Sherlock stated as he caught his breathe
"My reputation precedes me" was all Crowley said before he had Sherlock around the throat and pushed against the wall.
Sherlock gave a startled gasp when his back hit the wall, but other then that he didn’t make a noise.
Even though Sherlock was much taller, he knew that the demon had the upper hand.
"lets talk business" Crowley said, taking a drink from his glass in his free hand.
Strong. Old. Very expensive, the type you don’t drink very often. Though Sherlock could guess that this was all Crowley drank.
"Why did you do it?" Crowley asked as he shifted his feet slightly, but didn’t let Sherlock out of the choke hold
"You know why" he replied around his slightly blocked air way
"Enlighten me"
"Don’t you understand!? He was going to kill you all!"
"He died before you did. So why did you still jump?... Unless-"
"Yes. Now you see don’t you? He had gun men on everyone, even on The Doctor and Sam and Dean"
"You could have come back"
"I had to take care of everything first, make sure I wouldn't put J- everyone in danger with my return"
There was silence as Crowley let go of Sherlock.
"You broke him" Crowley said quietly as he walked further away
"What?" Sherlock answered with a small frown
"John. Its been three years and he still hasn’t healed. Sure he has a soon-to-be wife, but he's still broken"
Sherlock didn’t answer as he watched Crowley
"And the others. Sam and Dean hunted like mad men for three months. Three months, Sherlock. For three god forsaken months no creature out there was safe from a wrath like that! No sightings once the boys had started. They all went into hiding and the name Winchester was whispered like a curse. I cant even remember how many died. Although I'm not complaining about all those things gone, imagine the pain Sam and Dean were in. They didn’t talk to anyone, not even Bobby. Dean contacted me for the first time in three years and he begged me to find you. HE BEGGED ME, SHERLOCK!"
Sherlock didn’t say anything again, continuing to stare at Crowley.
"And The Doctor? He hasn’t had a companion since your death. He hates Cas! He had never hated anyone before! No one has seen him for the three years, a couple days after your funeral was the last time someone saw him.  Hasn’t been spotted in another planet or different time and believe me, I have looked. He's gone into hiding somewhere or he's dead"
"And Cas?," Crowley said after a pause "Hasn't come down from heaven since you died"
Crowley was on him in a blink of an eye, launching him into the wall with a simple push of his hand over Sherlock's chest. Before Sherlock could recover Crowley was crouched over him, his face inches from Sherlock's
"Fix this, Sherlock. Because if you don’t, I will" Crowley stood and walked to the centre of the alleyway. Rain still poured from the black sky, falling onto Crowley's black suit and creating a white halo around him. He almost looked heavenly, if it wasn’t for the two invisible appendages stretching out from his back. The rain bounced off them and Sherlock didn’t know how he didn’t see them before.
They weren't majestic like the Angel's wings when they were shadowed upon the wall by lightning. These were obviously leathery and had spikes from each point, looking something like giant bat wings. Huge, broken bat wings.
"And the only way for me to fix it is if you really die, Sherlock" his attention was brought back to the glowering Crowley, who grimly smiled at him with his next words
"And I will take pleasure in ripping your still beating heart from your body"
With a giant clap of thunder, the demon disappeared with a flap of his wings, and in the brief flash of lightning, his wings were seen. Huge black shadows that burned indentations the size of cars on the wall behind him.
Sherlock let his head fall to the dirty concrete, the rain soaking him to the bone as he lay in the rain. Droplets of rain fell across his face and mixed with those that tasted like salt as they trailed across his lips and into his slightly open mouth.

Four months later Sherlock stood in a dark corner of a restraunt, watching John sit alone at a table.
"Fix this" a voice whispered of Sherlock's shoulder and he winced.
He slowly walked from the corner, his black suit contrasting with the more casually dressed people in the room as he carved a path through the people and towards John's turned back.
People had started looking at him, some recognising the face but not remembering who he was. Their was a quite, startled gasp as someone finally remembered and the room started to slowly quieten. Sherlock pushed that from his mind as he kept slowly walking forwards
He must have felt something, heard some undetectable noise or maybe felt a familiar set of eyes on him, because John turned.
It seemed to happen in slow motion, John twisted in his chair, eyes searching the surroundings as he continued to look for what it was that made him turn. A slight frown pulled at his features.
John's hand came down on the corner of the table, helping his body turn more and one leg came out from under the table stiffly. His limp had returned.
He had finally almost turned completely to face Sherlock, his eyes still searching and small frown still in place.
Sherlock stopped walking, standing in the middle of the dance floor were many others stood.
But John picked him out immediately, his eyes sliding over the crowed and stopping on Sherlock as his frown grew deeper before disappearing completely.
There was a single whispered word that carried through the whole room, and latched onto the wind. It broke into four pieces. Two heading over the waters and into the hearts of two brothers. One headed deep into time and echoes through the millions of hallways of the TARDIS until it was heard by a single man. And the last, headed far away, disappearing into the place of angels and was captured in the fast hands of an angel who sat in a park with an old man flying a kite. Each of them looked towards London even though three of them couldn't even see it. The brothers, Sam and Dean rushed from the hotel room, not having yet brought there luggage in and ran to their Impala. The engine roared to life and they tared down the road towards the closest airport. The single man, also know as the Doctor looked up from his work and closed his eyes briefly. The soft whisper reaching his ears and he basked in its sound. His eyes flew open and he rushed to the console, a long forgotten smile erupting onto his features. And finally, the Angel. He brought his hands to his ear and his eyes left the autistic man flying  the kite. The whispered word spoke to him and his eyes widened fractionally before he stood up and walked through the park. An angel appeared and tried to hold him from leaving, but before it could make contact, Cas disappeared between steps.







"...Sherlock?..."