Well, it would appear that I'm being infrequent again, aren't I? I feel very guilty as I've been in the midst of other writing projects and have also been spending admittedly too much time with my new Netflix player re-watching Supernatural, Doctor Who, and (you guessed it) Sherlock. Hopefully this will help a little bit, though! No worries about future updates, as I do actually have a framework that's rounding out nicely. Thank you for your continued readership, as I have reached 2,000+ views!

Ch.8: Harvest Moon

-Cardiff, Wales-

The door had just clicked shut behind Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and this mysterious new figure called "the Doctor," leaving the Winchesters and Castiel stunned in its wake. None of them moved for about a solid two minutes. They just sat and tried to wrap their heads around what had just transpired. Finally, Sam sank into his chair at the breakfast table. His laptop was still open and the police scanner was softly playing static. It was the only noise in the room until Dean spoke.

"Alright, what the hell was that?" he asked. That was Dean, for you. Always asking the important questions.

"Well, I believe-"

"Shut up, Cas," Dean muttered, rubbing his face with his hand.

Cas was quiet for a moment, looking perplexed before his face lit with understanding. "Oh, I see. That was a, ah, rhetorical question."

Sam nodded silently for a few minutes before putting in his own two cents. "Well, it looks like we don't have to break in after all. Dean and I will go get ready, and Cas, we'll call you when we're on our way, ok?"

With a whoosh of what sounded like feathers in the wind, Cas was gone. Dean was alone on the end of his bed. Neither Winchester blinked an eye at the sudden disappearance. It was natural for them, now, to have an angel pop in and out of a room at will. If Dean hadn't been so focused on the mission at hand, he would have smirked at his first memory of Castiel, one of the very few times he hadn't just materialized out of thin air.

It had been in that old creaky warehouse in Pontiac, Illinois. Dean had been preparing with Bobby to summon Cas. At the time, they only had a name, not a being. Of course they had wallpapered the room with devil's traps, Zoroastrian sigils, Hindu, Jewish, and Christian marks from all walks of faith. They had needed something, anything to protect themselves. They had been armed, hell, they had been ready to take on anything except the being that walked through those doors. But no matter how many times Mary Winchester had told her son, "Angels are watching over you," Dean couldn't have even hoped to predict this. Rescued from hell by an angel. Dean had to admit it was all still very impressive, despite the fact that angels were dicks, as it turned out.

Sam stood from where he had been sitting. He stretched his arms behind his back, grunting. He was still deep in thought about what to make of the Doctor. He rubbed his face before he seemed to gather his wits and grabbed his fed suit. He walked off to the bathroom and Dean flopped backward on the bed. He should have started packing up their duffel of hastily thrown together hunting supplies, but he couldn't bring himself to do more than lay on his bed reeling at this point. He re-played the conversation in his head until he hit an interesting part and sat up.

Cas had said that he knew the Doctor, but they hadn't met. Now Dean knew that the names of all the prophets were engrained in Cas' mind, but Dean was willing to bet his Impala that the Doctor wasn't a prophet of the Lord. The next question was, if he wasn't a prophet, how did Cas know him? Did angels instinctively know all the Martians God created, too?

The thought was so strange that Dean shook his head and went to grab their army green duffel. He tossed it on the bed, sending grocery store canisters of salt and makeshift bobby pin lock picks sprawling across the comforter. Sam emerged from the bathroom in his suit just as Dean was packing away a water bottle of Holy Water from a nearby Church and wooden stakes made of tree branches they had seen on the side of the road. They had collected as much as they could from convenience and grocery stores, but they still had no guns and no access to any. They'd have to improvise.

"All packed up?" Sam asked, poking at the bag a little to double check the inventory.

"Yeah, just gotta get suited up. What do you think Cas meant when he said he knew the Doctor?" Dean asked, turning to Sam.

Sam nodded, looking pensive. "You know, I was wondering the same thing. Prophet?"

"Do they have alien prophets?"

"Good point. Someone important?"

"I've only known the guy for about ten minutes and he's absolutely not someone I'd put in charge of anything," Dean said, eyebrows raised.

"Well...go get suited up. We'll ask Cas."

In less than half an hour, Dean and Sam were packed up and on their way to Dr. Burns' home. Dean was driving, even in a rental, with Sam riding shotgun. It was the natural order of things and Sam didn't make a fuss anymore. It wasn't a fight he was going to win, and he was a better navigator than Dean, anyway. When Dean got frustrated, he'd get angry and get them even more lost. At least Sam could keep a cool head about it and get them where they needed to go.

"Hey, Cas," Dean called as they were pulling out of the motel lot. He looked both ways before pulling out onto the right. "You hearing me?"

"Dean!" Sam screamed as a car barreled straight at them.

"Jesus!" Dean yelled, yanking the wheel to swerve into the left lane.

"Sorry, my half brother always seems to be on call," Cas said from the backseat. Sam swiveled around to look at Cas. "Will I suffice?"

"Cas, can't you like, teach Dean how to drive or something?" Sam said, effectively annoyed.

"Hey! It's backwards here!" Dean growled. "People don't have the right to a freakin' gun, they drive on the wrong side of the road, their time zone's all screwy..." Dean trailed off, mumbling under his breath.

Sam ignored his older brother, taking the opportunity to ask Cas what they had both been wondering. "Hey, by the way, what did you mean when you said you knew the Doctor?"

Dean shut up so he could hear Cas' reply. Cas took a deep breath, as if the answer was information he wasn't supposed to disclose to the Winchesters. Then again, every other word he said around the boys wasn't meant for them to hear. "Gabriel said that even at the beginning of life on Earth, every angel knew that it would end with you two," he began.

"Yeah, except it didn't, so everything wants our heads on a stake," Dean interjected. Sam shushed him to let Cas continue.

Cas took a moment to think about his word choice before he spoke. "Well, Earth wasn't the only planet God created. He created other planets, other life forms, in reaches of the galaxy that mankind will never even hope to reach. One of those was the Doctor's planet, Gallifrey, in the constellation Kasterborous. He wasn't lying when he said he was a Time Lord."

"But that doesn't tell us how you know him," Sam prodded.

"Yeah, Cas, what aren't you telling us?" Dean questioned.

Castiel was quiet another moment before speaking. "Just like the angels knew this world would end with you, so we knew that Gallifrey would end with the Doctor."

"Wait, so you're saying-" Sam started.

"He's the last of his kind, the Time Lords, yes," Cas answered.

"Wait, let me get this straight. That happy-go-lucky alien thing we just met brought about the apocalypse on Gallifrey?" Dean asked. His head spun at the notion that the Doctor could have just let Gallifrey die.

"Yes. He was a brave warrior in the Time Lords' fight against another species, the Daleks. He was a soldier of the last great Time War. But his people were put in a time lock and Gallifrey destroyed to protect the rest of the universe from the Daleks and certain implosion. He narrowly escaped, living with the knowledge that he is alone in the world, the one who killed all his people, and the one who continues to commit mass genocide for the sake of what he believes is right."

"So he's basically what we would have been had we failed to stop the apocalypse?" Sam continued.

"If you'd prefer to look at it that way, I have no objections to your perspective," Cas stated diplomatically.

"And he's probably the most dangerous monster we've ever faced?" Dean asked.

"No, he's not a monster, and he's not typically dangerous to humans. In fact, he's done wonders to save this planet from invasions. He even takes some humans along with him on his travels. They're his companions."

"He's done wonders? He's saved this planet?" Dean spluttered, getting angry and flustered. "We stopped the apocalypse! We saved this planet from being completely overrun by demons and Lucifer himself!"

"Dean, I believe there's a term for what you're feeling," Cas said, furrowing his eyebrows and looking perplexed.

"We've saved this planet over and over again! Hell, we've been resurrected more times than freakin' Jesus. We said no to those sons of bitches who wanted to possess us and make the world a battleground for your family issues! And now you're telling me he's done wonders because he stopped First Contact?"

Dean pulled over to the sidewalk and threw the car in park, shutting off the engine. His hand was still on the key in the ignition when Cas perked up from the back and said confidently, "Inferiority complex!"

Dean turned around and gave Cas the dirtiest look Sam had ever seen. Then, Dean yanked the keys out, shoved the door open, and slammed it closed behind him. Sam sighed, knowing Dean would pout for days for that comment. Cas squinted and tilted his head, confused as to what he did to deserve the look from Dean. Evidently, he believed he had been helping by diagnosing Dean's struggle.

"Better not to ask," Sam grumbled, stepping out onto the curb.

Cas nodded in acceptance and followed Sam's lead. He may not have been completely used to human culture, but he knew that there were certain times where it was unwise to talk to Dean if one wished to avoid conflict. The angel had yet to fully grasp when those times were, but Sam was helping him. After all, Sam knew Dean best, despite Cas and Dean's profound bond.

The trio walked up to the crime scene, still covered in yellow police tape. Barely looking at the guy, Lestrade, who had escorted them out the day before, Dean flipped open his badge and said, "FBI, Agent Plant." He continued walking right through the front doors to find Sherlock, John, and the Doctor.

"Sorry, sir, back on police business," Sam apologized, showing Lestrade his fake badge. Cas flipped open his ID from the one time Dean had brought him on a hunt as an FBI agent, careful to make sure it was right side-up this time.

Lestrade glanced at the badges briefly before saying, "Yeah, go right in. Sherlock told me you'd be back. Is this the last day, then?"

"Hopefully, but I wouldn't hold my breath," Sam admitted.

Lestrade chuckled. "Well, you're working with the best in the business. Sherlock Holmes is a great man with a mind to baffle any genius. I'm sure he'll have this solved in no time."

"Sir, how long has Sherlock been on your force? It just seems strange that you speak so highly of him, but he's just a simple detective," Sam asked Lestrade.

Lestrade looked blown away by the notion of Sherlock working for him. "No, no, Sherlock isn't on my force. He's too good to be bothered with trivial police work. And he doesn't take orders from anyone. No, he invented his job, calls himself a consulting detective."

"I see," Sam nodded, furrowing his brow in thought.

"Besides, he doesn't work well with my force," Lestrade said. "Harasses my forensics team all the time. It's like playing referee to school children."

Sam chuckled to himself. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said. Of course Sam understood. He frequently had to calm down Dean and Cas and serve as umpire himself. Those two always seemed to be going at it, even with this "profound bond" Cas claimed they shared. Half the time, Sam couldn't tell if Dean wanted to strangle Cas or laugh at him. But even as crazy as those two drove him, Sam couldn't have imagined a better family, given all that had happened. I mean, what other family would literally go to hell and back for each other? Sam loved Dean and Cas more than he could ever say. It was just something that went unspoken. That's why it weighed on him so much when he let them down. But Sam hoped to change that soon. He wouldn't let them down again.

Dean poked his head out the front door. "Sam! Cas! You coming?"

"Better be getting on, then," Lestrade said.

Sam nodded. "Thank you, sir. I hope we can help." Sam started off to the front door while Cas stood behind, looking at Lestrade. "Cas?" Sam called.

"Go to Dartmoor on March 14, 2012," Cas said flatly.

"Sorry, what was that?" Lestrade asked.

"Dartmoor," Cas replied before Sam pulled him away towards the door, leaving a puzzled Lestrade in his wake.