SuperWhoLock: The Last Aztec

Chapter 4: Fergus

Once the Doctor had assured everyone that there was no one outside, Dean was the first to exit the TARDIS. Everyone quietly filed out after him. Sherlock was the only one without any weapons of his own, so Sam gave him a spare knife. The room they walked into was filled with computers, each showing interior views of people's homes.

"Creeps," Dean muttered, disgusted.

"Any idea which way we should be going?" John whispered.

"The wards are dimming my senses," Castiel said. "Otherwise, I would be able to tell."

"It's okay, Cas. We'll just have to take a look around. Split into groups of two," Sam suggested.

Sherlock went with John, Sam with Dean, and Castiel, much to his dislike, with Crowley. The Men of Letters headquarters was vast and confusing, with nothing to direct them. The place was built like a fortress, only with fluorescent lights and white everything. There were no windows, seeing as the place was underground. Castiel longed to stretch his wings, but that would require sticking them through the walls, which tended to get quite itchy after a while. Instead, he kept them tucked tightly into his body so as to avoid touching Crowley.

The place was eerily empty as the angel and the demon made their way through the halls, heading down several flights of stairs. Behind every door, they found an empty bedroom, office, lab, library, you name it.

"There's no organization to this place whatsoever," Crowley grumbled. "Even Hell is easier to get around."

"It's a defensive strategy," Castiel reasoned. "So intruders such as ourselves will get lost. I'm sure that even those who work and live here would get lost without a map." Then, an idea struck Castiel. "We should go back to one of the bedrooms. Perhaps someone keeps a map in their nightstand."

He was right. The duo found a map in the third bedroom they checked and proceeded to follow it to the main office.

"This isn't right," Cas said as they walked. "We haven't come across a single person."

"You think it's a trap? How could they have known that we were coming?" Crowley asked.

"I don't know. Unless maybe you told them."

Crowley sighed. "Come on, Tweety, I thought we were friends."

"Crowley," the angel growled.

Crowley sighed. "I didn't do anything. Honest!"

Castiel shook his head, and they continued on in silence. Finally, they reached an inconspicuous door marked F6-112. Cas slipped his angel blade out of his sleeve, and Crowley held up his own, which had obviously been stolen at some point in time. With one more brief glance around, the angel kicked open the door and charged inside.

"This is insane," John muttered, walking alongside Sherlock.

"Before today, I never would've thought that any of this could be possible," Sherlock responded, adjusting his collar. "But here we are. Below Buckingham Palace, invading the headquarters of a secret organization that specializes in the Supernatural, accompanied by an angel and a demon. Not to mention the alien and his flying police box." There was a sort of wonder in his voice that had replaced the former incomprehension and disbelief.

"God," John said. "The Queen has to know about this. The entire British government must be involved."

"Mycroft," Sherlock growled. "Always one to keep secrets."

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps became audible behind them. John whipped around, holding up his gun, and Sherlock pulled out his knife.

"Woah! Hello! Sorry, I got bored. Changed my mind. Mind if I tag along?" It was the Doctor. John sighed in relief, lowering his weapon.