There's always been four of you, however, when your older brother Sam left for Stanford you decided to leave hunting as well, leaving your two other siblings, Dean and Katie to continue hunting.
"Where will you go?" Sam asks you once the two of you are far enough away from the motel.
"England, preferably London... I want to stay out of this life for as long as possible." You reply. "I already have my passport and everything."
Sam looks a little surprised but doesn't say anything about it. Instead he says: "Promise me that you will look after yourself and please text me when you get there."
"Of course Sammy." Before the two of you go your separate ways, your older brother pulls you into a hug and kisses your forehead. As you're walking you look over your shoulder once watching Sam's receding form. The song Separate Ways by Journey gets stuck in your head as you head to the airport.
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When you arrive in London and text Sam, you grab a newspaper looking for someplace to stay. You find somewhere that is relatively cheap- but there is a slight issue. You don't have the money to hail a cab and you don't know London very well so you're hesitant to go on the tube. For you the best option is walking, despite the fact that it is starting to rain. All you have to protect you from the elements is your second-hand leather jacket. It repels water fine but it isn't the warmest thing in the world.
By the time you get to 221b Baker street you are drenched head to toe with freezing rainwater. You knock on the door, to keep your mind off the cold for a little bit you open up your locket and look at the picture within. The picture is of you and your siblings just goofing around. You look up from your family's smiling faces when you hear someone ask if they could help you. After a quick explanation, you're allowed inside.
The landlady introduces herself as Mrs. Hudson. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hudson, I'm Y/N Winchester." You answer with a kind smile. Mrs. Hudson then leads you upstairs where two men are lounging around in the front room. The shorter of the two look up from what he is doing and notices how wet your clothes are and how you're still shivering.
"Here, take this." He says as he hands you a blanket. "I'm John and that's Sherlock." John gestures to the other man sitting across from him.
"Thanks." You answer as you drape the blanket over your shoulders. "I'm Y/N."
"How do you feel about the violin?" Sherlock asks, not even bothering to look away from what he is doing.
"I don't really have a preference. Why do you ask?" You answer looking confused. Sherlock gets out of his chair and stalks over to the fireplace before replying.
"I play the violin when I think."
"Oh..." Your phone starts to ring, you fish it out of your pocket and look at the caller ID- it's your older sister, Katie. You puff out your cheeks before slowly exhaling and answering. "Hey Katie." You say trying to sound optimistic.
"Hey. What in the world happened? I'm gone for three weeks and when I come back you and Sam are gone... and neither dad nor Dean will tell me what happened." Katie says from the other line. You run your free hand down your face as you try to think how to respond.
"A huge fight broke out between the four of us, which resulted in Sam and I leaving. Sammy went to California..." You trail off unsure how to say that you're now in London.
"Where did you go?"
"The other side of the world."
"Do I even want to know how that worked out?" You rub the nape of your neck.
"It's all sorts of complicated." Katie lets out an exasperated sigh. She then says that Dean just came back from a supply run and that she'll call you back. "Talk to you later then sis."
"Later (nickname.)" With that, your sister hangs up. You sigh and set your phone down on the coffee table. You pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders trying to retain warmth without a lot of luck.
"Aren't you going to get out of those clothes?" John questions sounding concerned.
"I would if everything else wasn't wet." You reply. John grabs a cane and gets out of the chair. He limps away leaving you in confusion. When he comes back he tosses a change of clothes at you.
"Put those on for now, the toilet is down the hall to left."
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24 hours after you move in with John and Sherlock, John warns you about Sherlock's brother, Mycroft, and how he would offer you money to spy on Sherlock. "I suggest you say no, no matter how much he offers." John tells you.
"Who would actually spy on someone for money?" You ask in response. "No matter how tempting it is."
"Believe it or not, a lot of people do."
A few hours after talking to John, sure enough, Mycroft takes you to a remote location and offers you a decent sum of money- enough to get you through a full year of school and then some. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think that I would be a very good informant. I've never been able to keep a secret... knowing my luck I might let something slip and then I wouldn't have any place to stay. I can't afford anywhere else." You explain, stretching the truth a bit. Mycroft nods and has his people take you back to Baker Street.
"Where'd you go?" Sherlock asks when you get to the flat. You take off your coat and hang it up.
"Some out of the way warehouse to talk to your brother." You answer.
"Did he offer you money to spy on me?"
"Yes. I didn't take it though."
"Pity we could've split the fee." You don't respond. Instead, you head to your room and grab your laptop and walk back out and sit down at the table. You open the computer and turn it on, it's going to take a while to boot. Like everything else you own; your laptop had another owner- and that previous owner (aka Sam) forgot to mention that he used up almost all of the memory.
You groan in annoyance when you get an error message. "Computer problems?" John asks.
"Unfortunately. I don't know what my brother did to it, nor do I know how to fix it."
"If you really need to use a computer, I can lend you mine... all I ask is that you don't go snooping through my files and personal documents."
"Thank you, John. Why would I go through your information?"
"I'm not sure but I was just letting you know." You lightly laugh. The two of you chat for a little bit, getting to know each other a little better. You find out that he used to be an army doctor.
"Well that explains why you threw a dry change of clothes at me yesterday." John chuckles in response as a man runs up the stairs. John notices him first, however, Sherlock is the first one to speak.
"Where?" He asks.
"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens." The new arrival replies.
"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different."
"You know how they never leave notes?"
"Yeah."
"This one did. Will you come?"
"Who's on forensics?"
"It's Anderson." Sherlock grimaces. Apparently, your new roommate has a very strong dislike for this Anderson person.
"Anderson won't work with me." Sherlock comments.
"Well, he won't be your assistant." The other man (whom you're pretty sure is a cop) counters.
"I need an assistant." Sherlock puts a heavy emphasis on the word need. A part of you wonders what Sherlock does for a living. On the other hand, the other part of you wonders when your computer will finally decide to cooperate with you.
"Will you come?" The cop impatiently asks.
"Not in a police car. I'll be right behind." A look of relief speeds across the cop's face as he mutters his thanks as he takes his leave. Sherlock then jumps with excitement. "Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh, it's Christmas!" You arch an eyebrow not saying a word. Sherlock grabs his coat and his scarf. "Mrs. Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food."
"I'm your landlady dear, not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson answers Sherlock doesn't seem to hear her because he's already out the door.
"What was that about?" You inquire slightly puzzled.
"I have no idea." John answers as he sits down in the armchair that he has claimed as his. He leans his cane against the chair and picks up a newspaper. Mrs. Hudson tells John that she would make a cup of tea for him, she also tells him to rest his leg. "Damn my leg!" He shouts, startling you and Mrs. Hudson. "Sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this bloody thing..." he then hits his leg with his cane.
"I understand, dear; I've got a hip." John says something about tea and Mrs. Hudson replies with: "Just this once, dear. I'm not your housekeeper." When the ex-military doctor asks about biscuits Mrs. Hudson almost yells "Not your housekeeper!"
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While Sherlock and John are gone you borrow John's laptop and sign into your Skype account. You notice that both Sam and Katie are online. You then set up a conference video call with them. Katie answers first and a few seconds later Sam joins in. "Hey, it's my two favorite girls." Sam jokes. Katie giggles while you just roll your eyes.
"Whatever weirdo." You reply.
"Look who's talking."
"Sammy!" Both you and Katie exclaim at the same time. Sam then throws his head back laughing and clapping his hands. A small smile creeps onto your face.
"How's the other side of the world sis?" Katie asks.
"So far I like it." You answer. "I found a place to stay that the rent isn't too bad."
"That's good." Sam comments.
"Yeah... got some interesting roommates though." As the words leave your mouth you notice Sherlock coming up the stairs with a pink suitcase in hand, you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. "Uh, Sherlock why does it look like you went dumpster diving?"
"I was looking for this." Your roommate answers gesturing to the suitcase in his hand. You turn to face him with a look of confusion and concern.
"Will you please explain to me why you went dumpster diving for a pink suitcase?" Sherlock doesn't respond, he's busy trying to see what's all in the pink case. You're so focused on trying figure out what your new flatmate does for a living, that you ignore your siblings, until Katie speaks up.
Both her and Sam need log off so Katie can continue research, and so Sam can get to class. You mask a look of disappointment with a smile and tell your older siblings that you'll talk to them when they have more time before you sign out and put John's laptop away.
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John seems a little panicked after he finds out he just texted a murderer. Two seconds later John receives a call from a withheld number. "A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody had just found that phone they'd ignore a text like that, but the murderer..." Sherlock says dramatically shutting the case. "Would panic."
"Have you talked to the police?" John asks.
"Four people are dead. There isn't time to talk to the police."
"So why are you talking to us?" Sherlock looks like a child who lost their favorite toy.
"Mrs. Hudson took my skull."
"So we're basically filling in for your skull?" Sherlock just shrugs as he puts on his coat he then says that you and John can watch TV or tag along with him.
"You want us to come with you?" You ask, mildly surprised.
"I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk aloud. The skull just attracts attention, so..." Sherlock trails off.
"What the hell I have nothing better to do." You answer getting out of your chair. John seems hesitant, but he curses when you and Sherlock basically race each other down the stairs. He catches up with the two of you outside. "So where are we going exactly, Sherlock?" You ask.
"Northumberland Street's a five-minute walk from here." Sherlock explains.
"You think that he is stupid enough to go there?" John asks.
"No – I think he's brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They're always so desperate to get caught." Sherlock counters.
"Do you think he messed up on purpose then?" You ask. Sherlock throws you a slightly impressed look.
"It is a possibility, but then again he might've made an amateur mistake."
"You've lost me." John says. "Why are the brilliant killers so eager to get caught?"
"Appreciation! Applause! At long last the spotlight. That's the frailty of genius, John: it needs an audience."
"The more newspapers about these murders the more audience the killer receives. The more audience, the more murders... right, Sherlock?" Sherlock once again looks slightly impressed, not many people can keep up with his train of thought.
"Exactly right Y/N." Sherlock pauses for a second. "This is his hunting ground, right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go." He throws his hands up thinking. "Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"
"Don't know." John states. "Who?"
"Haven't the faintest. Hungry?"
"More like starving." You say throwing your two cents in. Sherlock airily chuckles as he leads you and John to a small Italian place. The waiter clearly knows the consulting detective.
"Thank you, Billy." Sherlock says as he takes off his coat and sits down at a table just as the waiter removes the reserved sign. "Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it." He advises.
"Think the killer is just going to waltz up to the door and ring the doorbell?" You ask. "I don't think anyone besides my brother, Dean, would be that cocky." Sherlock only shrugs as the owner walks over to the table with three menus.
"Sherlock." He says with a smile, Sherlock shakes the owner's hand. "Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free. On the house, for you and for your friends."
"Thank you..." You meekly respond "Can I ask why it's in the house?"
"This man got me off a murder charge."
"This is Angelo," Sherlock says, as you and John shake Angelo's hand. "Three years ago I successfully proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking."
"He cleared my name."
"I cleared it a bit." Sherlock huffs. Angelo says a few other things before taking his leave. "You may as well eat. We might have a long wait."
You don't order a lot, figuring that Sherlock might want to leave at any second. Sherlock stares out the window, watching. "Sherlock how come your brother calls himself your arch-enemy?" You ask, breaking the silence between the three of you.
"Yours don't?" Sherlock asks mildly surprised.
"No."
"Sounds a bit dull."
"For you maybe. For me; well let's just say that over the years my family has made a lot of enemies, because of that I could only trust my family." You bitterly answer.
"What about friends?" John asks. You stand up and throw him a harsh look.
"Never. Had. One." You coldly retort as you then leave the restaurant and head back to Baker Street.
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When the cops show up, you meet Lestrade, Anderson, and Donovan. You're not the biggest fan of Anderson nor Donovan, you like Lestrade to a point.
Sherlock storms up the stares and glares at Lestrade. "What are you doing?" He demands.
"Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid." Lestrade retorts.
"You can't just break into my flat."
"And you can't withhold evidence. And I didn't break into your flat."
"Well, what do you call this then?" Lestrade puts on an innocent face before answering.
"It's a drugs bust." When John sarcastically asks if Sherlock was a junkie, you see the hurt in Sherlock's face telling you that he was a junkie at some point in his life. Sherlock then tells John to shut up. He then returns his attention to Lestrade.
"I'm not your sniffer dog." He states.
"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." Sherlock looks ready to kill someone. He actually singles out Anderson.
"Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?"
"Oh, I volunteered." Anderson answers, venom dripping from his voice.
"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they're very keen." Lestrade points out. Donovan then walks out of the kitchen holding a container of eyeballs.
"Are these human eyes?" She asks.
"Put those back!" Sherlock exclaims.
"They were in the microwave!"
"It's an experiment." Lestrade tells everyone to keep looking or Sherlock could actually help them. The conversation that is going on between them isn't really friendly. "I AM CLEAN!" Sherlock practically yells. He actually shows Lestrade his nicotine patch.
"So let's work together. We've found Rachel." Lestrade comments, as he pulls down his sleeve.
"Who is she?"
"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter." That seems to throw Sherlock through a loop. He starts muttering about why would the victim write her daughter's name in her last moment.
"Never mind that. We found the case." Anderson harshly points out. According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath."
"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson. I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research." Sherlock deadpans. "You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. I need to question her."
"She's dead."
"Excellent!!" You and John share a worried look. "How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be."
"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago." Sherlock looks all confused and slightly disappointed. He then starts muttering again.
"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yup – sociopath; I'm seeing it now." Anderson states. You ball your hand up into a fist he just hit a nerve.
When you were three and a half when your mom just got off the phone with your dad asking him to come and get you; your dad and your siblings were a little slow- you watched in horror as your mom got mauled to death by a hellhound. Her last words to you were- I love you and I'll think about you always.
"She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt." Sherlock points out.
"You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he ... I don't know, what if the killer talked to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow." John mentions.
"Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?"
"Sherlock..." You say, your voice shaking slightly. You were still shaken from Anderson's comment. "When someone loses a person they love, it's hard. I mean when my mom was killed it took me almost two years for me to cope, I'm still not over it."
"Yeah... now if you were dying if you'd been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?"
"Please, God, let me live." John answers.
"I would say the same thing." You add in.
"Oh, use your imagination!" Sherlock scolds.
"We don't have to." Sherlock looks at you and John and sees the pain behind your eyes... he then realizes that both of you have been on death's doorstep before.
"Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever... Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers: she was clever." Sherlock says continuing his train of thought. He also starts to pace. "She's trying to tell us something." Mrs. Hudson walks up the stairs.
"Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Sherlock." She says.
"I didn't order a taxi. Go away."
"Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?"
"It's a drugs bust, Mrs. Hudson." John answers. Poor Mrs. Hudson looks panicked.
"But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers."
Sherlock suddenly shouts: "Shut up, everybody, shut up! Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off."
"What? My face is?!" Anderson asks in surprise. You hide a smile.
"Everybody, quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back." Lestrade pipes up.
"Oh for God's sake!"
"Your back, now, please!" Anderson reluctantly turns his back and Sherlock starts talking to himself. Then there was Mrs. Hudson talking causing the consulting detective to yell at her.
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Sherlock disappears somewhere. You roll your eyes. He was worse than your dad when it comes to these things. John convinces you to come with him to find Sherlock. What John doesn't know is that you have your gun on you (apparently you hid it incredibly well that the airport x-ray machine didn't find it.) Now unbeknownst to you John also has a gun on him. That is a little awkward when the two of you pull out your guns and shoot at the same time. Each bullet gets dangerously close to the cabbie/killer's heart.
"When and where did you learn how to shoot?!" John asks as the two of you get out of the building, so the police wouldn't be too suspicious.
"I've been using firearms for a very long time. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
"Ah." You have to laugh at Sherlock and his strange relationship with a blanket.
"Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me." You overhear Sherlock tell Lestrade.
"Yeah, it's for shock." Lestrade answers.
"I'm not in shock."
"Yeah, but some of the guys want to take photographs."
"So, the shooter or shooters. No sign?"
"Cleared off before we got here." Lestrade starts going on a little bit before he shrugs while saying: "Got nothing to go on."
"I wouldn't say that."
"Okay, give me." Sherlock lowers his voice so you can't hear what is being said.
"Actually you know what, ignore me." Sherlock says loud enough you can hear the conversation again.
"Sorry?" Lestrade replies.
"Ignore all of that. It's just the, er, the shock talking." Sherlock then starts to walk over to you and John.
"Where're you going?"
"I just need to talk about the-the rent."
"But I've still got questions!"
"Oh, what now? I'm in shock! Look, I've got a blanket!" You start laughing at that comment.
"Sherlock!"
"And I just caught you a serial killer... more or less." When Sherlock walks over to you and John he says in a very soft voice "Nice shot."
The three of you start talking and walking away from the crime scene, John notices Mycroft and points him out to Sherlock. That was an interesting conversation to say in the least. When you get back to 221b Baker Street you create a group chat with Sam and Katie.
'You wouldn't believe the day I just had.' You send.
'What happened (nickname)?' Sam asks in response.
'Please tell me that you didn't get hurt.' Katie adds in. You lightly chuckle to yourself.
'I'm not hurt. However, I did help Sherlock (one of my roommates) catch a serial killer... might've shot said serial killer though.'
'Okay start at the beginning- I want to know the whole story.'
'As do I.' With that, you then start telling your brother and sister about your day.