Epilogue

It had been several months since he was forced to fake his death, since he was set up as a fraud and since he had to leave those he had cared about. Sherlock had lived with Molly for several weeks while he changed his appearance. He had dyed his hair to a strawberry blond shade and slicked it back. He grew sideburns, a mustache and goatee. He dressed differently even though he never left her flat and rarely answered the door. He felt himself growing closer to his beloved friend.

Then one night he had shared a dream with Dean where he was given an invitation to stay with them for a while. Sherlock was willing to accept. But only of if it was all right with Molly and thought it was better to hide him outside the country. Several hours later Castiel had arrived and he packed up some of his things and said goodbye to Molly before he was taken to America, not to a cheap motel but to a special bunker that was owned by a group of people called The Men of Letters.

Sherlock enjoyed his home in the bunker. He had a decent bed and was able to take warm showers and was able to eat, but he was more interested in the knowledge the place stored. He spent hours scouring through the books, sometimes forgetting to eat and sleep. He even read some of the scrolls and studied the objects. The place was extraordinary. It even had a laboratory, a firing range and a war room.

Then a month after he had moved in the angels fell. It was stated to be a cosmic phenomenon by everyone who was not in the know. Newspapers were filled with reports of the world wide meteor shower and what was more puzzling were the lack of any meteorites to be found. Even though there was a more likely chance of a rock burning to dust before it hits the earth the scientists had said that with the shower that larger there should have been at least a few, but there were none to be found.

The angels themselves had made appearance around the world as they walked the Earth, not as humans, but wingless and some were depowered. Some were honest with who they spoke with and they were placed in mental hospitals. Some could not accept what had happen and committed suicide. The others seemed to have accepted their fate, pretending to suffer from amnesia and accept help from strangers.

Several angels had tried to invade their home until they set up the sigils. That didn't keep them from hunting down and attacking Castiel and the rest of them, but someone would always paint the banishing sigil with their blood on the wall. Sherlock had even did it a couple of times while he worked on hunts.

Sherlock was more than willing to put his problems on the back burner. Along with the fallen angels there was Castiel who went through a bout of depression, claiming it was his fault, despite the fact that Sherlock, Dean, Sam and a young man named Kevin told him he was tricked.

Sam was unconscious for a week. He was sickly and weak when Sherlock first came to the bunker, but after trying to complete the third trial he was a blink away from death. He was in a coma for a week and then he was better. He seemed like he had more strength and vitality then everyone and Sherlock swore he saw Sam's eyes glowing a few times. No one knew what was going on with him, not Sherlock nor Deab, nor even Kevin Tran knew.

Sherlock actually liked meeting Kevin. He was a teenage boy that held a great deal of promise. He was highly intelligent and showed great promise. He was what the Americans called an advanced placement student and if he wasn't a prophet he would have attended uni at Princeton. His being a prophet was more intriguing to Sherlock than his level of intelligence. He was able to read the word of God and was working out a way to restore the angels to heaven. He was also a talented cello player and he and Sherlock would often play together. It reminded Sherlock of how he used to play with Mycroft. He did not realize how much he actually missed his brother until now.

Their bunker family grew with the addition in the form of Crowley, correction Fergus. The demon was nearly cured of its evil by Sam's purified blood and would of fully cured him if it were not the fact that Sam would have died. Fergus also spent weeks in a depressed state, regretting everything had done since he became a demon. He apologized to all of his victims. He wished he could be completely cured. He had taken up the role as the caretaker, making sure everything is clean, cooking and baking. He was also the only one who knew how to brew a decent pot of tea.

Sherlock had learned how to be a hunter. He had accepted the false identity of Robert Harvelle and was willing to use any of the rock musician names that Dean gave him. Sherlock had worked on perfecting his American accent when he went out on hunts. Hunting did give him a new joy. He used his deduction skills to help determine who the monster was an in one case debunked a so called haunted house. He had helped Dean and Sam burn two ghosts, exorcise a demon, kill a nest of vampires, slay an incubus and a wraith.

"Yo Sherly," Dean shouted as he entered the lab one evening along with Castiel. Sometimes the former angel went on hunts. "Playing with your chemistry set?"

"Hardly," Sherlock answered as he studied the piece of wraith spike that he had broken off from his last hunt. He was impressed with the bone structure. "How many times have I told you not to call me Sherly?"

"Brought you back a souvenir," Dean said as he sat down at the other end of the table. "It's a piece of shifter skin. I stuck it in the fridge for you."

"Thank you," Sherlock said and looked up. "I do appreciate the gift."

"Also got a text from Charlie," Dean said. "You are not going to believe who e-mailed the website."

The Website in question was dubbed I Believe in Sherlock Holmes or simply . It was set up to help restore the image to Sherlock's character. Kevin, Sam and a young woman who went by the Alias of Charlie Bradbury had set it up. There were pictures of famed children's show hosts who had deplorable real life secrets on one page comparing them with Richard Brook. The site used to have Don't Stop Believing by Journey playing on the main page until Sherlock and Sam had asked for it to be removed.

"By the time I have finished what I started I will make Kitty Riley look like Rita Skeeter and no one would believe her bullshit," was the vow that Charlie had made.

"Try me," Sherlock said.

"John Watson," Dean answered. "He appreciates what we are doing. He also told me that he has a new roommate a man who called himself Barachiel."

"One of the fallen?" Sherlock asked.

"Seems like it is. John misses us and he misses you more. I couldn't see him or hear his voice but even in the text he was depressed."

"I can't let him know," Sherlock said and closed his eyes.

"Because of Moriarty's network?" Dean asked. "Then we are going to take a huge feather duster to that web of his."

"It will be complex," Sherlock said. "We have enough trouble with trying to restore the angels."

"The only one I really want to restore is Cas, mostly I want to kick that son of a bitch Metatron in the ass but we can do this together. He's got hackers? We got the best hacker in the world and you already met her. He's got a network? Well so do we, granted they are hunters, but we will have everyone who has ever worked for the bastard hauled to jail or killed and once we reveal Moriarty was real and your reputation restored you will call him."

"You enjoy ordering people around," Sherlock said and sighed. "I will do better than call him. I will return to him all of them: John, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson. Molly and Lestrade."

"Willing to give up this job?" Dean asked.

"I will give it up here, but I will continue to hunt and solve mysteries back home in London. Do not get me wrong, my friend. I enjoy my time here, but I miss home and I miss them."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"We should get started now," Sherlock said with his jaw clenched in determination. "We've got work to do."

The End

A/N: Thank you to all who have been following, all who have faved and all who have commented.

I am working on a sequel titled Live to Rise