Thanks to Nerdlee, Lovely Rain Dancer and Mayacakaia for their reviews on the last chapter. And thank you to everyone who reviewed the story over the past nine chapters!

As always, much love to Pablo, Lexie, PetraTodd and Sempaiko for their support and beta.

PART TEN

As they ran from the Hellhound, Dean was harshly reminded of the time in Carthage. When Lucifer has raised Death. When Ellen and Jo had died.

Again, the Winchesters had dragged two people into their demon melee. Molly and Sherlock could die, for nothing more than wandering the highway at the wrong time.

That was always how it was. People died because they were around at the wrong time.

"Do you have it ready?" Sherlock called out to Dean.

Dean looked over his shoulder. Despite Sherlock's lean build, he seemed to be falling behind the others.

It took Dean a moment to realize what was going on. Molly was looking tired. No doubt the years spent at medical school and working as a doctor had softened her to life as a Hunter. She was winded. Sherlock was remaining a stride behind her, in case Cerberus managed to overtake them.

"Get in!" Sam shouted as he flung open the door of the motel room. "Now!"

Dean ran into the motel, closely followed by Molly. Sherlock still hung back. "What good is hiding going to do?" Sherlock demanded.

"We're not hiding, idiot!" Dean snapped. "We're fighting! Just get in here before that thing gets on your ass!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes before he ran into the motel room. Dean slammed the door shut behind him and opened the bag of black dust, laying it down in front of the door. "Goofer Dust. This will keep that thing out just long enough."

Sam went to the desk and fiddled with the bomb. "This is what you were asking about, wasn't it, Sherlock? The bomb? It's almost ready. We just have to lure that thing in. Then blow it up."

"Blow it up?" Molly squeaked. "In here?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, Doc. We'll get the thing in through the door. You, Sherlock and Sammy punch out the window and I'll set off the bomb."

"Dean, this idea sucks," Sam snapped.

Molly nodded, biting her lip. "Not only will you be killed Dean... Anyone else who is in this motel might not make it out."

"Do you know any other way?" Dean demanded. "We can't see that thing! The only way to kill it is to lure it into an enclosed space and blow the place up!"

Sherlock was peering out of the window, his head twitching slightly as if he was watching something move quickly. "I can see it just fine."

"What?" Dean growled, stalking over to the infuriating detective. "Did you do something stupid? I thought Molly would've stopped you from serving up your soul to hell!"

"She did," Sherlock replied. He pulled himself up to full height. He was still slightly shorter than Dean himself. "I can still see it. I can deduce where it is."

"What are you saying?" Dean spat. But he knew. He could tell by the look in Sherlock's eyes. He was sure he had that look of determination on his face before. When he'd offered up his soul to save Sam. When he went to meet Michael and Lucifer in Stull Cemetery.

Molly seemed to pick up on it as well. She shook her head. "Sherlock, no..." Her eyes welled with tears.

Sherlock strode to Molly. He brought a hand to the back of her neck, urging her up to look at him.

A twinge of guilt hit Dean. While he didn't care for Sherlock, he could see clearly in that one touch that Molly's feelings were reciprocated.

"Molly, I jumped off that roof to protect John, Lestrade and Mrs Hudson. And now it's time to protect you too. There's no guarantee you would be able to get away from the motel in time." He brushed a lock of hair off her face. "You'll be able to go back to London. Live your life again."

Molly shook her head. "There's no going back. I knew that when I helped you."

"Then you'll stay with Sam and Dean," Sherlock smiled. "They could use all of the help they can get."

Tears were streaming down Molly's cheeks. "Sherlock..."

"I can never go back," Sherlock insisted. "I know that now. I'm already dead. Now let me do this."

He pulled her close, kissing her with more passion than Dean thought the cold man could ever be capable of. But while he did, he drew the knife from Molly's jacket.

He rested his forehead briefly against Molly's. "Sam? Is that bomb ready?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded, holding out the makeshift device.

Sherlock finally pulled away from Molly. He took a breath and took the bomb. "Thank you."

"Good luck," Sam murmured.

Dean regarded Sherlock silently, a newfound- albeit grudging- respect forming for the arrogant man. He gave him a small nod.

Sherlock looked at the knife in his hand. "I am sure you will enjoy prying it from my cold, dead hands."

His stride was purposeful. "Put more of that dust down once I'm out." He looked to Molly again. "If you ever see John again, tell him the truth."

He threw the open the door, breaking the line. Dean went to work quickly, shutting it behind him, putting down more dust.

Dean then ran to the window. He saw Sherlock moving, watching the ground, seeing dust get kicked up by the unseen demon creature.

Sherlock was parrying and dodging, swinging the knife and spilling black blood onto the ground.

He then shouted and fell, his side torn open.

"SHERLOCK!" Molly cried, making a run for the door. Sam caught her, holding her tight.

"You can't go, Molly," Sam insisted. "This is the only way."

Dean winced as he saw Sherlock's torso mangled by the unseen claws. He remembered that feeling all too well.

"When's he setting it off?" Dean demanded.

Suddenly, the bomb disappeared. Dean's eyes went wide. "It's got it in its mouth."

Molly went limp in Sam's arms, defeated. "It'll actually kill it... Not just wound it."

But Sherlock had stopped moving. And the bomb hadn't gone off even with the force of the hellhound's fangs.

Dean then saw it. The hint of the bomb. It was still lodged in its mouth. Dean grabbed his shotgun and threw open the window and fired. "Smile, you son of a-"

The bomb went off, black blood spattering over the lot around the motel and hitting Sherlock's corpse.

Molly elbowed Sam, forcing him to let go of her and she went running to the door. Dean and Sam followed her out. Dean kept his gun up as the girl ran to her fallen partner.

"Sherlock," Molly cried, panicked. "Sherlock! Please! NO!" She sobbed.

She cradled his body to her, rocking him in her arms.

Crowley sauntering to them. "Take out my pup, will you? I'm going to have to take that out of every inch of your well-toned asses, boys."

"I don't think so," a gruff voice said.

Dean turned and saw Castiel standing behind him, clutching his angel blade. His eyes glowed.

"Been here before, Cas," Crowley replied. "Do you really think I'm going to back off this time?"

The shadow of Castiel's wings appeared and he began to glow. In an instant, Crowley had disappeared along with his demons.

"Dammit, Cas!" Dean shouted. "Took you long enough!"

Castiel ignored Dean's chastising. He knelt down next to Molly. He reached a hand out and touched it to Sherlock's head.

Sherlock took in a sharp gasp of air and his eyes opened. He sat up straight, looking at Castiel with a shocked expression on his face.

"You'll be fine," Castiel grumbled. He pulled himself back to his feet. "The presence of Cerberus kept me from manifesting properly. Now that he's gone, I can remain with you. He chief hellhound may be dead, but Crowley will try other methods to get Kevin and your half of the tablet."

"Well, super," Dean groused. "And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?" He pointed to Molly and Sherlock. "And what are we supposed to do with them?"

Sherlock was insisting he was fine. A near-death experience was nothing new to him, after all. Molly hated pointing out to him it was actually a full death experience.

Sam was packing up the back of the stolen car with whatever supplies the Winchesters could spare. He held out the hex bags to Molly. "These should keep you and Sherlock off of Crowley's radar."

Molly accepted the bags. "For the moment."

Sam smiled wryly at her. "Yeah. I bet you two will end up making some noise."

Molly slipped the bags into her pocket just in time to watch Sherlock turn the handle of the demon killing knife and holding it out to Dean. "I am sure you wanted to take this off of my corpse, but I hope you'll accept it this way."

"As long as I have it back," Dean replied gruffly. "Listen, after everything we've gone through..." He nodded. "I think you're a douche."

Sherlock smiled tightly. "And I think you should get over your father's macho conditioning and admit the truth about yourself, rather than engaging in meaningless encounters with random women you meet on the road. We all have our own perspectives, don't we?"

Dean glared at Sherlock for a moment before turning to Molly. Sherlock rolled his eyes and strode to Sam to say goodbye to him.

Dean held up Molly's phone. "Put our numbers in here. Better we stay apart. Crowley's going to keep on our asses. If he takes us out, good for there to be others around to pick up where we left off." He handed it to Molly. "But if you guys need help call." He smiled, nodding his head to Sherlock. "You can also call if you get bored of him."

Molly slipped the phone into her pocket. "I don't know... I think things might always stay exciting with him."

"Well, it was worth a shot." Dean sighed. "Think you're going to go back to retirement?"

Molly smiled. "You never retire. Not really." She pulled Dean into a hug. "Take care of yourself, Dean. And if you ever need help... Phones work both ways."

Molly parted from Dean and stood beside Sherlock outside of their car as they watched the Winchesters and Castiel get into the Impala.

"Do you think they know?" Sherlock asked quietly.

"Know what?" Molly frowned slightly.

"That Castiel is a sleeper agent. He's being controlled by someone- I assume the angels- in a complicated plan that will most likely result in a battle between Castiel and Dean."

Molly's eyes widened. "What?" She made a move towards the retreating car. "We have to warn them!"

Sherlock grabbed Molly. "It's all right. The angels have underestimated Castiel's feelings for Dean. They'll be fine."

Molly calmed down. "How can you figure all of that out?"

Sherlock chuckled. "After all of this time, you're still questioning me, Molly Hooper?"

Molly walked to the passenger's side door. "So what do we do now?"

Sherlock opened his door. "Well, you have no intention to stop doing this any longer. Moriarty's network is still in place. While Sebastian Moran may be the king of hell, there may still be a way to prove my innocence. The network is no doubt teeming with demons that need to be destroyed in order for Sam and Dean to be able to close the gates of hell. Not to mention all of the people who are in danger from ghosts and monsters. I say we have our work cut out for us."

Molly slipped into the car next to Sherlock. She smiled up at him. "Let's go on a hunting trip."

THE END