(Y/n) Winchester joins her brothers in a hunt in London, England. Upon entering the large city they followed several signs of demonic omens, joining Sherlock on the case along the way.
As the demons become aware that they're being hunted the game ta...
Ups! Ten obraz nie jest zgodny z naszymi wytycznymi. Aby kontynuować, spróbuj go usunąć lub użyć innego.
A/n: The gif is giant on the computer and small on a phone and I have no idea why. But anyways, this honestly probably my favorite chapter out of all of my fanfictions. I'm so happy with this. Hope you like it!
🔎🔍
"I'll be fine teaching Sherlock, Dean would shoot him if they dealt with each other any longer. Now go, go teach John how to deal with the supernatural, get him that tattoo while you're at it. I'm sure Mary wouldn't mind, she's getting one herself."
"Wait really?" Sam asked as (Y/n) pushed him out of the door of 221B.
"Yes really. She's scheduled an appointment for next week, Sherlock too. Go!"
Sam caved, giving (Y/n) one last hug before running to the Impala to go off to some abandoned place in the country to train John. Apparently Sherlock regularly shot the walls of his apartment, so they were fine.
"Alright, now that the boring ones are gone, we can have some fun," (Y/n) grinned, picking up a bottle of holy water and splashing Sherlock with it.
He closed his eyes and sighed. Spitting some water out of his mouth. He took the bottle out of her hands and splashed her as well. She squealed in shock, looking at a smirking Sherlock with wide eyes.
"You did not."
"Oh, but I did Winchester. Are you going to retaliate like I expect you to?"
"Holy water, you splash it on those you expect to be a demon, give it to them subtly in a drink, give it to them somehow, and they pass the first test," (Y/n) said calmly, pushing a wet strand of hair from her face, "I can't believe you'd expect me to be so violent while teaching Mr. Holmes, I thought you were smarter than that."
Sherlock's eyes widened. The detective became silent as he looked over (Y/n) once again, his eyes lingering longer than the regular deduction time.
"Silver," (Y/n) poked Sherlock's ribs with a silver knife she had borrowed from Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock jumped back, coming out of his daze, "Second test, deters shape shifters, they can't touch the stuff and can be killed by it."
"So it would hurt them if I did this," Sherlock picked up the other silver knife and poked (Y/n)'s arm, stomach, and cheek. (Y/n) slapped his hand away, scowling at the smirk on his face.
"Yes," (Y/n) grumbled, putting her knife back down on the table, "They can be hurt by that."
Sherlock suddenly lashed out, throwing his knife hard at the wall. It hit in the forehead of the smiley face spray painted on the wallpaper. He turned back to (Y/n), his eyes teasing and challenging.
(Y/n) took the silent challenge, picking up her knife again and throwing it at the wall. It landed slightly to the side of Sherlock's knife, still a killing shot, smiley face on the wall wise.
