(A/N) This is the last part in this fic. But don't be alarmed, (you don't have to be… it's not that good so I don't blame you if you're glad it's over) I do plan on created a SuperWhoLock series. Multiple fics. Obviously this is the first one. If you have any suggestions, I am open to suggestions. Thanks for reading, you guys are awesome. Live happy lives and enjoy the finale of this piece!

CHAPTER 13

The angel's arm still clung to Sam's lifeless form.

"What's going on down there?" Rose called from where she and John stood at the doorway, guarding the angel.

"Dean's brother just died, so noting too huge," Sherlock said.

"What?!" John replied. "Sherlock I've told you, when people die it's kind of a big deal!"

"Well we can just go get his brother from 1946, so no, it's not a big deal," Sherlock countered.

"Well… just get up here and stare at this angel for a second, will you?" John demanded. Sherlock gave a small, exasperated sigh and walked up to the doorway to take John's place. John ran down to where The Doctor stood next to the two Winchester brothers. He crouched down next to Dean. "Don't worry, I'm a doctor," He said reassuringly to Dean. Dean nodded and continued to stare at the angel's arm while John examined Sam. After a minute or so, John stood up.

"Broken neck. What I don't understand is that you," he turned to The Doctor, "said that when they touch you they zap you into the past. So why is Sam still here?"

"Well, the angels don't always send you to the past, that's just how they feed. If an angel is angry then it kills," The Doctor clarified. John nodded in understanding.

"So when are we going to get rid of this fudging angel so we can go get my brother?" Dean demanded.

"As soon as we can come up with a better solution than your last idea," Dean could practically hear the smirk on Sherlock's face.

"It's not funny, Sherlock," Dean grumbled.

"As for getting rid of this angel, which is the most pressing matter, any ideas?"

"I don't know if this is helpful, but I think the angel is significantly weaker all broken up like this," Rose mentioned.

"What if we separated them? And locked them up so they couldn't move?" John suggested.

"Iron cases that are only open able from the outside. We could put angel parts in them and bury them in various places," Dean added.

"Brilliant!" The Doctor exclaimed. "I have no idea if this will work, but the chances are very highly in our favor!"

"Well that's comforting," Dean muttered.

"Theoretically, if we lock the angel up, over years of isolation it would starve to death," Sherlock commented.

"Yes! But no, they can't actually starve to death, but this plan just gets better and better!" The Doctor ran and stood by Rose. "Now, do you know where I put all those huge metal boxes?"

"I didn't know you even owned huge metal boxes!" Rose exclaimed.

"Well you're helpful," The Doctor smiled teasingly.

"I would have something in the Impala if Sam…" Dean turned to glare at his brother, but upon realizing his brother wasn't there he turned his head down to glare at his shoes.

"Sherlock? Do you have anything?" John asked.

"Actually, yes."

"Why…?" John shook his head. "Do I really want to know?"

"Well, due to your previous indisposition towards knowing what I was doing, I would assume not," Sherlock replied.

"Well, where are they?" John asked.

"Barts. I gave them to Molly, it's likely she could have found a good use for them," Sherlock said.

"To Barts it is then," John said.

"I'll stay back and watch the angel," Rose offered. She looked at Dean, "Care to join me?"

He shrugged, "Sure."

"Sherlock, John and I will be back in just a few minutes," The Doctor kissed Rose lightly on the cheek, "Be safe, okay?"

Rose smiled, "Doing otherwise never crossed my mind."

Sherlock leaned over to John, "Sentiment?"

"Yes, now be quiet," John replied.

The three that were leaving ducked out of the TARDIS and headed toward the main road. Sherlock hailed a cab and they all climbed in. "Barts," Sherlock commanded. The cabbie nodded and started driving.

"Do either of you have change?" The Doctor inquired.

"Ummm, no." Sherlock replied.

John sighed, "I've got cash." The cab pulled up at Barts, and John paid as the other two climbed out. They walked into the morgue and found Molly in the middle of an autopsy. She looked up when they entered.

"Sherlock! I wasn't expecting you," Molly stuttered.

"That's because I didn't plan to come. Where are the boxes?" Sherlock inquired.

"What boxes? And who is that man?" she gestured to The Doctor, "and I'm busy!"

"The iron boxes I gave you a couple weeks ago. That's The Doctor, yes that's his name or at least what he goes by, he's a time traveling alien. Yes I'm aware that you are working, I just need to know where you put the boxes."

"They're, they're in the back storage room," Molly spluttered. Sherlock turned and started walking.

"Thanks, Molly," John said as he and The Doctor followed suit.

"Wait, did you say alien?" Molly called after them as they disappeared into the storage room.

CHAPTER 14

Rose glanced up quickly when she heard the beeping of a large truck in reverse. The truck stopped a few meters away, and John and The Doctor climbed out.

"We've got the boxes, where's Dean?" The Doctor asked.

"Inside with Sam," Rose replied. The Doctor nodded.

"John! Get one of the boxes!" He called over his shoulder. John nodded and opened the back of the truck. He grabbed one of the smaller iron boxes and followed The Doctor into the TARDIS.

"Dean! We're back!" The Doctor called.

"Boxes?" Dean asked. John lifted the one he was holding to show him. "Good. I got the arm off his neck," Dean gingerly held out the stone arm, keeping his eyes fixed on it. John opened the box, and Dean dropped the arm in. John quickly closed the box. Immediately the box jolted as the arm frantically tried to break its way out. Dean hurriedly locked the box and all three men breathed a sigh of relief. Dean took the box from John and tucked it firmly under his arm, the banging still persistent.

The Doctor turned to walk out of the TARDIS, but John spoke out. "Doctor, what are we going to do with Sam?" The Doctor stopped and sighed.

"Well, when we go pull Sam out of 1964, this Sam will disappear, because he never will have existed."

"What about us? Will we remember all of this if it never happened? And can we at least wrap him in a blanket? I don't like seeing him like this…" Dean trailed off, glancing back at his brother's body.

"Perks of TARDIS travel, you will remember everything, and yes, we can wrap Sam up," The Doctor's eyes shone with a deep sadness for a moment. He snapped back. "Wait here for just a second." He ran off into one of the many corridors, and returned with a large, white, cotton blanket.

Wordlessly, they wrapped Sam and left the TARDIS.

…

Outside, Rose and Sherlock had done a significant amount of angel-cleanup. Only a few large pieces, including the head, remained.

"Nice work!" The Doctor exclaimed.

"Thanks," Rose replied, stil staring at a large chunk of stone at her feet. "Can you help us move these? They're really heavy."

"Sure," Dean replied, setting down his own box and moving over to Rose. The Doctor and John walked over to Sherlock and began helping him.

Soon, all the various angel parts were packed in their various boxes. The air was loud with the sound of banging as they tried to escape their small metal prisons.

"Considering the potential danger if the angel were to have gotten to the core of your TARDIS, is it practical that we fly these pieces through time?" Sherlock mused.

"Ehrm… probably not…" The Doctor replied, somewhat hesitantly.

"Well then what the hell do we do with them?" Dean demanded.

"We could always just bury them in various places around London," John suggested. "We do have a truck."

"Well let's do it then," The Doctor beamed, his contagious smile spreading to everyone else. They loaded the back of the truck.

"So my one question is, isn't it illegal to just go bury stuff in random places?" Dean asked after they had finished.

"Oh yeah…" The Doctor looked into space, thinking.

"We could drive into the countryside and just discreetly use some fields," Rose suggested.

"Illegal still, but yeah that could work," John confirmed.

"I know someone. He owes me a favor, we could use his land," Sherlock said.

"Where?" The Doctor asked.

"A few miles north of here. It won't take that long."

"Sounds good. Everybody in!" The Doctor called. Everyone piled into the truck with John at the wheel.

"Stupid Brits, driving on the wrong side," Dean muttered as John pulled the truck into traffic.

Using Sherlock as navigation, they eventually reached a small farmhouse. "We're here," John pulled the truck over and brought it to a stop.

"Everybody out!" John called as the five adults climbed out of a too-small space.

"It feels good to be out of there," Rose said, stretching.

"If I had to be in there any longer..." Dean left the phrase open to let their imaginations fill in the blanks.

"It was only an hour, Dean," The Doctor reasoned.

"Yeah. Only." Dean scoffed.

"Are you going to stop bickering, or am I going to have to do this on my own?" Sherlock asked.

"No, no, we're coming." John replied, heading down the front path after Sherlock. The others followed.

Sherlock knocked and a round-faced, middle aged man opened the door. "Sherlock! It's so good to see you!" His accent was very heavily Scottish, but his words slurred together, making him difficult to understand.

"I need a favor."

"Yes, anything for an old friend!" the man smiled, showing crooked, yellowing teeth.

"Can we bury some things in your fields?" Sherlock asked. The man was taken aback.

"You want to… what?" he stammered.

"We have several Iron boxes we need to bury. We were wondering if we could use your fields," Sherlock explained.

"We'll bury them deep enough that they don't disturb your crops," John piped in.

"Okay," the man smiled, "They're all yours."

"Thank you," John returned the smile. They headed back down the path and began unloading the truck.

"How many acres of land does he have?" Rose asked.

"Fourteen, and we've got sixteen boxes, so it should work out okay," John replied.

…

Several hours of hard work later, every box but the head was buried.

"What do reckon we do with this one, Doctor?" Rose asked, holding the restless box in her lap.

"What if we just took this one back in time?" John suggested.

"Yeah, wouldn't that weaken the rest of it?" Dean said.

"It probably would… yeah let's do that," The Doctor picked up the box. "Everybody back in the car!"

Dean groaned, "Not the fudging truck again!"

CHAPTER 15

"So, we'll just drop this in 1946, so we can pick Sam up at the same time, and minimize flying time," The Doctor glanced at Dean, who glared in return.

"That's probably a good idea," Rose confirmed, nodding.

"Okay then. 1946, here we come!" The Doctor exclaimed. The TARDIS lurched and Dean fell against the railing.

"I thought you said this wasn't like flying an airplane!" Dean yelled.

"It's not!" The Doctor called as he danced around the center console.

"Ugh, this is terrible…" Dean moaned. The screeching of the brakes indicated their landing. "Please tell me it's over…"

The Doctor opened the door, "We made it, October 1946."

"Where do you think Sam is going to be?" Rose asked.

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again. "I… I don't know…"

"Well let's go get rid of this head, then we can look for Sam," Sherlock clapped his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Should we just bury it in the same field we did all the other ones?" John asked.

"No… we could probably just find a nice grove of trees and put it there," The Doctor said.

"Well let's get looking," Dean said, "We're still in the same park, aren't we?"

"We should be," The Doctor nodded.

"So how about right there?" Rose asked, gesturing to a small cluster of trees.

"Not ideal, but if we're careful, it will work." Sherlock answered. Dean ran back into the TARDIS and grabbed a shovel.

"Let's do this," He said, swinging the shovel onto his shoulder. John picked up the iron case and they walked to the grove. Dean dug a hole about four feet deep and they dropped the box inside. He was filling the hole back in when he heard it.

The soft snap of a twig and an exhale of a name.

"Dean?"

His head snapped up. "Sam? SAM!" Dean abandoned the shovel and ran for his brother before enveloping him in a hug. "How long has it been? For you."

"About two months, I had to get a job."

Dean smirked, "A job? Wow Sammy, I'm impressed."

"Heh, yeah. It hasn't been that bad."

Rose ran up next to them. "Sam! It's so good to see you!" She said, wrapping her arms around him. Sam gave Dean a sideways glance. Dean shrugged, as if to say, 'just go with it.'

CHAPTER 16

The Doctor bounded into the TARDIS followed by everyone else. "Next stop, 2006!" he exclaimed, slamming his hand onto a button. The TARDIS lurched into flight.

"Would it kill you to warn me?" Dean exclaimed, glaring. Sam nudged Dean in the side.

"I still have that mp3 player if you want it," he whispered.

"Shut it, Sammy."

The brakes squealed and the TARDIS landed. Dean was the first one out.

"Solid ground. Thank goodness." He muttered.

"Well, we'd better be off. Sherlock actually has a case now," John said after checking his phone. "Lestrade," he said to Sherlock, who nodded.

"We'll be seeing you tow again. Bye!" Rose said.

"I look forward to it," John smiled, and Rose blushed.

"Well, I guess I'll have to put up with you again so, later, asshole," Dean said, lightly punching Sherlock in the shoulder, who gave him a quizzical look.

Sherlock turned to John, "Scotland yard?" John nodded. "Goodbye then." Sherlock and john turned and walked away.

"It's been fun." Rose said.

"Yeah… fun…" Dean muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened?" Sam asked.

"no." Dean replied. There was silence for a moment.

"Well, goodbye boys. I'm going to say this now, but everything that happens in the next few months, just stay strong." The Doctor counseled. He grabbed Rose's hand. "Well, where to now?"

She giggled, "Surprise me." He grinned in return and they ran back into the TARDIS. It dematerialized.

"Back home?" Sam aksed.

"Yeah," Dean muttered. "And don't do that again."

"What?"

"Don't die on me. Ever again."

Confusion clouded Sam's face, "I'll try not to."

THE END

(A/N) So. This fic takes place two months before Sam dies and Dean sells his soul to save him. Just to give you feels.