Chapter Twelve- School Dinners

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"This is rank," Gabriel threw his fork down, disgustedly, glaring at his 'macaroni cheese'. Castiel smiled slightly, eyes cast down as he cut up his fish.

"Well, go hungry then," Anna snapped, pushing her mashed potato round her plate with her spoon. Gabriel made a face at her, picking up his fork and gingerly nibbling on a piece of macaroni.

"Pie!" Dean announced as him and Sam sat at their table. "Cherry pie, to be specific." Gabriel gaped at his plate.

"Where did you get that?" he demanded. Dean shrugged.

"I can always find pie," he grinned, taking a bite. He closed his eyes, smiling blissfully. "Perfection..." Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, okay Paul Hollywood," he sniggered. The others laughed.

"Paul Hollywood is fit!" a voice exclaimed behind them. Amy, Rory and the Doctor joined them, Amy receiving repulsed looks. She looked confused, then laughed. "I'm joking! He's, like, fifty!"

"Thank God for that!" Rory grinned. "I'd hate to have that kind of competition!" The Doctor smirked.

"He'd outdo you any day, Rory," he proclaimed, biting into a fish finger. Sam frowned.

"Are you having fish fingers with custard?" he grimaced.

"Yep," the Doctor smiled, popping the 'p'. He glanced round, frowning. "Where are Sherlock and John?"

"I don't know..." Sam said thoughtfully. "I haven't seen them all day. Maybe we should go check on them after we've finished. " The others agreed, soon finishing their food. Gabriel picked up the plates.

"Cas, you haven't eaten anything," he observed. Cas looked at his shoes.

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. Gabriel looked like he wanted to say something but Amy cut them off from where she, Rory and the Doctor were waiting up ahead.

"Are you coming or what?" she yelled, her Scottish accent colouring her words. Cas hurried after them.

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Sometimes, cells don't die. These cells still replicate like normal cells, which means that healthy ones have no space to replicate themselves. This is how some cancers are formed.

A loud knock on the door interrupted John's reading. Sighing, he closed the book and set it down, standing and walking quickly to open the door. Eight faces grinned at him.

"Can I help you?" John inquired, rubbing his tired eyes.

"You weren't at dinner. What's up?" Anna smiled. John glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at them.

"Sherlock's sick," he answered, opening the door wider to reveal the sleeping boy. Dean looked confused.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," the older boy shrugged. "Just felt a little déjà vu."

"Do you often watch Sherlock sleep?" Gabriel smirked. The others laughed. Dean punched him on the arm, making Gabriel yelp. Sherlock's eyes fluttered open.

"What's happening?" he mumbled, gazing owlishly round the room. Amy sighed.

"Now look what you've done!" she scolded, pushing past John and into the room. She sat beside Sherlock. "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine," the aspiring Detective answered. It was clear that he was lying, however, because his face was pale and his cheeks were flushed, and he was shivering. John retook his seat on his bed as everyone piled in and closed the door.

"No, you've got a chill. A bad one, too. Probably from jumping in the water yesterday," John announced. Castiel looked down.

"Sorry," he whispered. Sherlock shook his head, managing to sit up with Amy's help.

"It's not your fault, Cas. It was that psycho," Sherlock said, surprisingly firm for someone so sick. Sam nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed, then looked thoughtful. "Who was he?"

"I don't know, but we need to find out."

A/N: no, I'm not dead. I just thought I'd wait a bit to update because I was doing one every two days. The chapters can be longer now, too, because I've taken more time to write them.

What do you think so far? I'd love to hear from you!!! Vote, comment, etc. You know the drill. Love you guys xxx

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