The Demons That You Hide

by Brambleshadow of WindClan

[Co-written with fellwiththesebrokenwings. Dark!Doctor.] Annabelle is back to travelling with the Doctor after a few months off, even though she's been hunting with Sam and Dean. But he's changed, and she soon starts to wonder who—or what—she's really dealing with—and if she can ever escape from him.

1. Chapter 1

This is yet another rp with teamfreewillsamdeancas. Since both of us wanted to do a DarkTen rp, we put our previous one on hiatus. I was Ten; Sarah was her OC Annabelle Winchester and the other Supernatural characters. I just don't feel comfortable writing for Supernatural yet, and she doesn't feel like she has a good enough handle on the Doctor to write him. So it works out perfectly.

We also had way too much fun with this. There were several moments where my brain did something and I had to tell her to take the computer away from me before I could do any damage. The first four chapters are written; we're working on the fifth. Anyway. . .

Warnings: DarkTen, language, attempted murder, torture, and psychological abuse. If that doesn't cover it, I don't know what will.

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The Demons That You Hide

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Chapter One

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Here comes the night.
Can you see the light?
Shining like the sun.
You wanna hide but it's got you on the run.

Every word you say
Is taking your breath away.

Cry, the demons that you hide,
Screaming through the night.
They won't forget you.
Coming down, coming down, coming down, coming down.

~ "Cry" by Def Leppard

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The Doctor was standing alone at the TARDIS console, looking over the readings on the monitor and scratching one hand behind his ear. His head snapped up at a somewhat frantic knock at the door.

"Yeah?"

"You always appear at just the right time don't you?" Annabelle's voice said. Metal clanked, and the only sound for a while was metal striking metal. "Uh, so you mind letting me in?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Oh, it would be you, wouldn't it?" he muttered. Reluctantly, he snapped his fingers and the TARDIS doors opened.

Annabelle stumbled inside backward, holding an angel blade at ready, and closed the doors before looking back at him, worry crossing over her features. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. There was something different about him, something she couldn't place. "Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "It just feels . . . different in here."

"You must be imagining things. The TARDIS doesn't seem different at all to me." He took them into the Vortex, then out of it, let the old girl drift. All this in less than a minute. "And anyway, I didn't even know you'd be there. I was just stopping to refuel the old girl. There's a rift in time and space running through here as well as in Cardiff. And since I've been hanging out here recently—" He shrugged.

"Weird. The boys dropped me there for a vacation and I got jumped by a bunch of angels. Where are we now?"

"Oh, nowhere. Just deep space." He said it so casually. . . .

"Oh." Her voice was small.

"Why?" he asked. "Did you want to go somewhere?"

"No," she said quickly. Annabelle amended, "Well . . . I've been a bit homesick for Colorado but Sam and Dean can drive me there when we go back." The end of the sentence came out in a rush.

He eyed her for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then his fingers were working at the controls and he was dashing around the console. "Okay. Colorado it is, then. I've never been there. Should be interesting."

Annabelle grinned a little. "The mountains are beautiful. A bit cold, though."

"Where in Colorado, exactly?" The Doctor wanted to have a better fix on the coordinates.

"It wasn't really counted as a town. Um . . ." She gave him exact coordinates, and he entered them in. Moments later the TARDIS was materializing in a small clearing.

"Do you know what year it is?" Annabelle asked as they stepped out of the police box.

The Doctor sniffed at the air. "Ooh . . . 2013?"

Annabelle's heart sank a little. "Can you tell what month?"

"Nope," he said almost cheerfully.

Children's terrified and pained screams filled the silence. Annabelle cringed. "Um, okay. I think I'm done here. We can leave."

"Or not."

Annabelle knew she sounded panicky, but she couldn't help it. "No, you don't understand. We have to leave. Remember that paradox thing you told me about?"

Now he got it. "Ah. Crossed your personal timeline, hhhmm?"

"My family is dying as we speak."

The Doctor nodded in realization. "Oh. Yep. We're leaving. Allons-y." He turned, slipped inside the TARDIS.

Annabelle followed him, trying to block out the screams. "Did you choose the year or the TARDIS?"

"I did." He looked up from the console, and the expression on his face scared her. It wasn't the fact that it was half in shadow that made him look so eerie, though that was part of it. His eyes were so dark, face dead serious. He must have known about the date, the year. So why had he—?

Annabelle found she couldn't meet his eyes any longer and dropped her gaze, suddenly very interested in the grating. "Oh," she said softly.

He didn't say anything, busied himself with taking them elsewhere, somewhere outside Colorado Springs, October 2013. "You don't have a problem with it, do you?"

"No." Annabelle felt better there, when they materialized. She showed the Doctor around a little, brightening up at each location she remembered, and pointed out Pikes Peak. "It seems like there's always snow up there. And if you go down the highway a little, the mountains look a bluish color."

The Doctor perked up at the mention of snow. "Oh, snow! I love snow."

She flashed him a teasing smile and playfully elbowed him. "Then you should come here more often! Plenty of snow in the winter." She smiled fondly as she lost herself in memories. "Mom would always tell me to bundle up in those huge puffy jackets. I always stuck to hoodies. Still do. I used to have, like, ten pairs of boots. My brother and sister loved it. They had snowball fights all the time. We always had a snowman in our front yard."

"So long as it's actual snow," the Doctor mused before clarifying, "I mean, before it's usually been a disintegrating spaceship. And I had a hand in it—caused it, actually. Several times."

"I don't think we got any of that here. As far as I could tell it was always real snow. At the very beginning of next year there's a big snowstorm."

"Well." He looked around casually, stuck his hands in his pockets. "Might as well find out the exact date. I'm thinking late October, maybe day before Halloween. What about you?"

"Sounds about right, judging by the color of the leaves and the wind chill."

He grinned, but there was something . . . off about it. "So let's go see what the neighbors are up to." Without waiting for her, he headed off. Annabelle followed, looking at the Halloween decorations.

The Doctor eyed the decorations as well, an amused smile tugging at his mouth. "It's amusing, what All Hallow's Eve has come to in America, don't you think, Annabelle?"

She smiled, thinking about it. "You should see the costumes. I never realized how inaccurate they were until I met Sam and Dean."

"It's not just that." He switched into his lecturing tone of voice. "It was originally a sabbat—well, I say sabbat, but it can also be an esbat—called Samhain, one of the eight days of power on the Wheel of the Year and the time when the veil between worlds was thin. There are still people who celebrate it as such. All this dressing up and trick-or-treating . . . I don't know where that came from."

"There's a demon that can't attack you if you're wearing a mask or something like that," Annabelle told him, pleased to know something he didn't. "That's where the dressing up came from. No idea why we decided to give kids candy."

"It's not like they don't have enough energy as it is," he added.

"Exactly!" Annabelle smiled and glanced at him. Her eye caught on someone who had a "haunted house" set up in their yard. "And then there's those." She pointed at it. "Have you ever met an honest-to-God real ghost?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No. Stuff that looks like ghosts, yeah, loads of times. But there's always been another explanation." Suddenly his voice was bitter, frustrated, and a tad lower than normal.

Annabelle was slightly confused by it, but she continued on a bit more cautiously. "Well, I'll tell you this much: They won't talk to you. They'll either kill you or repeat their own death."

"Same with the Gelth, really. And any other gaseous alien life-form I've come across."

"How do you deal with them?"

"With the Gelth, we turned up all the gas in the house and lit a match." He shrugged casually. "No more problem. Besides, they'd taken over the bodies of your dead as part of a means to survive what the Time War had done to them. The Last Great Time War wasn't just between Time Lords and Daleks; other species, the whole of the universe suffered. Until I ended it."

"Oh. Maybe that's where hunters get the whole salt and burn thing."

"Maybe. Did I not mention Charles Dickens was involved? And it was Christmas?"

"Seriously?" Annabelle said incredulously. "Sounds like you have bad luck with Christmases."

He snorted. "No kidding. But fighting ghosts with Charles Dickens! At Christmas!"

"That's great. That sounds like a lot of fun. Seriously. This Christmas, supposing Sam Dean and I survive that long, I'm gonna make them stop for a day. We'll stay somewhere nice and do something fun and normal. Maybe you can stop by and join in. There's always room for one more."

"Well, yeah, I could. Supposing nothing comes up."

"Yeah. Tell you what, when Christmas 2014 rolls around, if we're all still alive, I'll give you a call and we can see what we can work out."

"Or, y'know, we do have a time machine," he suggested.

"Yeah we do." A thought occurred to her. "Hey, just between the two of us do you think I survive 2014?"

The Doctor turned his head away so she couldn't see the smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, yes."

She laughed a little as she talked, because she thought she wouldn't survive with Zoë's last promise: Next time we meet you will comply or you will die. "I'm taking your word for that, Time Lord. I trust you."

His smirk widened. "Really?" He sounded almost like he was questioning her, and his voice was slightly rougher, lower than normal.

Annabelle tilted her head as she studied him. Why wouldn't he look at her? "Well yeah . . . You've kinda saved me quite a few times." Sensing something off, her voice became slightly suspicious. "Why?"

He quickly wiped the smirk away, turned his head to look at her. "Just nice to hear you say it is all." The Doctor was covering up the real questions he wanted to ask—like just how much she trusted him; if he asked her to do something she'd do it with no questions asked, would let him do it even if it meant sacrificing her.

Annabelle stared at him for a moment, looking for anything that seemed off. "Well, you didn't expect me to treat you like some sort of bloodthirsty monster, did you?"

A smile flickered on his lips, but it was gone in a second. "Funny. Some other species do call me that. You don't think that, though, do you?" There was something intense, unsettling in his gaze as he met her eyes.

Annabelle broke eye contact just for a second. "No. I think your hearts are in the right place. Hell, I'd take a bullet for you. I'd probably do just about anything if it meant saving you." She paused, running his behavior through in her mind before she asked, "Are you sure everything's okay?"

The Doctor averted eye contact, looked to the left. "Yeah. Everything's fine," he lied. Wanting to distract her, he abruptly changed the subject. He couldn't let her become too suspicious as to the change in his behavior, after all. "So, want to keep looking around, or do you want to head back to the TARDIS and meet Sam and Dean for Christmas?"

His teenage companion thought it over for a moment. "Let's go have Christmas."

"All right then." He turned back 'round, headed toward his ship, and opened the door with a snap of his fingers. "Hhmm. I'm getting better at that." The first time he'd done that had been in the Library, after River Song had told him her Doctor had been able to open a TARDIS with a snap of his fingers; that whole armies had turned at the sound of his name. He hadn't believed her at first, but when she'd whispered his name in his ear . . .

Annabelle followed him and didn't really question it, thinking he was trying something new.

The Doctor walked up the metal ramp to the console, shaking off his thoughts of the mysterious River Song on the way. "Let's see. . . December 24, 2014 . . . What location?" He looked over at Annabelle with that excited mask on his face.

"Try the house in Lincoln," she told him.

"All right," he said, speaking to the TARDIS as he added: "Set coordinates to Lincoln, Nebraska." He pulled at something, and the TARDIS shook with the effort. The Doctor braced himself on the console, grinned at Annabelle. "Here we go! Haha!"

She also braced herself, finding herself nervous to see what's happened in 2014, but returned the grin.

-oOo-

The TARDIS landed inside the Winchesters' house. He checked the monitors before opening the doors and stepping out into the living room. Annabelle followed him out, glancing around. Her house looked pretty much the same, but there were no Christmas decorations or anything like that.

The sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs alerted her to the boys' presence. Sam and Dean greeted Annabelle with big hugs; they simply shook hands with the Doctor, followed by Annabelle quickly catching up with Sam and Dean.

The Doctor stood off to the side in front of his TARDIS, hands in his pockets, then waited until there was a lull in the conversation before he spoke. "Don't you lot want to know what I've been up to? I'm not here all the time, you know." That statement was so out of character for him that they all stopped talking and looked at him.

Annabelle tilted her head, her gray eyes sharp and bright. "I asked earlier . . . You didn't offer anything. In fact, you completely avoided my question."

Suspicion instantly clouded Dean and Sam's faces. The Doctor covered with, "Well, I was waiting until all of you were in the same room. Didn't want to tell the same story twice." He waited, hoping they bought it. The suspicion on the brothers' faces didn't ease; if anything, it became sharper.

All three hunters were tense now, hands resting on the weapons they constantly carried—just in case. Annabelle tried to keep the tension from her voice as she said, "Go ahead, then."

"Oh, you know me," the Doctor drawled, leaning back against his ship. "Had a bit of fun. Went to the Medusa Cascade; named a galaxy Allison; saved a planet; destroyed a dozen alien races; was taken prisoner by the Daleks; got married—that was a mistake. Good Queen Bess. And let me tell you, her nickname is no longer—" He broke off, dipped his head. "Ahem."

Sam smiled at the mention of Queen Elizabeth the First. Of course he would get it, the Doctor thought. Annabelle looked confused after the "wiping out alien races" comment. "I thought your thing was not killing things," she said. Sam and Dean almost went to draw their weapons. Annabelle, sensing the movement, shot them a look that said clearly, "Wait. Let me handle it."

"Well, not unless there's an extreme danger," the Doctor said quickly. He fixed the teenager with a searching, almost puzzled look. "I told you, Annabelle, I've killed before. Why are you so surprised?"

"I just . . . didn't expect to hear that from you, especially so casually. Another hunter . . . that's a different story, but . . . you just seem . . . off to me. Do you know what I mean?"

He shrugged casually. "Not really, no."

"Let me explain then: Your entire . . ." Annabelle searched for the right word for a moment. ". . . demeanor is off. I told you I trust you and you questioned me, and now you're talking about wiping out twelve species without showing any remorse whatsoever. Do you see the problem yet?"

"I'm alien. I have a different morality. Get used to it or stay here at home." His eyes met hers, that dark brown so incredibly intense that she found it hard to look away. The left corner of his mouth hitched up in a smirk that, combined with the eyes and the really great hair, should be made illegal. On several different planets. But at the moment, when put in context, his entire expression was just disturbing.

Annabelle blinked to clear her mind, focused on what he'd said. Since when had she let his good looks get to her? Irritation swelled and she snapped incredulously, "Um, excuse me? No. I will not get used to it or stay home." Irritation turned to anger. "What the hell happened to the Doctor that bounced around and smiled a bunch? Because I liked him a lot better than you." She scoffed. "Reminds of the angels. 'Comply or die, Annabelle,'" she mocked. "'We are the only righteous path, Annabelle. Follow us, Annabelle. End the world, Annabelle. Be a good girl, Annabelle. Get used to your path, Annabelle.'" Her voice turned back to her regular tone. "They all think they're so much more superior. I'm just a kid, right? Minor threat. Oh, my family is dead and I'm vulnerable? Even easier prey. They all underestimate me. Wouldn't you agree, Dean?" Her eyes never left the Time Lord in front of her as she addressed the hunter behind her.

"They would never know what hit them," Dean agreed.

"And I'm not underestimating you, Annabelle," the Doctor said. His next question wasn't quite rhetorical. "Why do you think I have companions?"

"I've heard many different theories. One being to hold you back. I'm thinking that's probably right."

"Sort of. You lot, you humanize me, make me more human than Time Lord. Sometimes that's a good thing; other times . . ." The Doctor shrugged, and his eyes darkened.

Annabelle nearly took an uneasy step back but forced herself to stay put. "Why did you kill those aliens?" Behind her, Dean had the bottle of holy water behind his back and was unscrewing the lid, preparing to use it if necessary.

The Doctor's lips curled in a smirk. "What do you think?" He stared her down, gaze unflinching and a few shades darker than it had been seconds before. Not quite black, still dark brown, but enough to make her edgy.

Annabelle managed to keep a cool tone. "Oh I don't know. People have many different motives: Grudges, danger, money, paranoia. Hell, I've heard of people killing out of love. You tell me."

Dean, behind her, chose this moment to splash the Doctor with his holy water.

Nothing happened. A wet, spluttering Doctor shook the water out of his hair and eyes and glared at Dean. "What was that for?!" His voice was an indignant shriek and a snarl all at once

"Nothing," Dean covered quickly. "Um, just a . . . muscle spasm . . ."

Annabelle looked at Dean like, "You're such an idiot!" She said to the Doctor, "Calm down. He, uh . . . means well."

Irritation flared in his eyes. "No, let me guess. Holy water?"

"Yep," Annabelle said with a shrug. "You can never be too careful when your friends suddenly drastically change."

The Doctor let out a derisive snort. "You actually thought I'd been possessed by a demon?" he sneered. "They only work on humans, which I am not."

"Stranger things have happened," Annabelle said.

"No bloody kidding," he snapped. "Satisfied?" This time he made no attempt to hide his annoyance. "Or are you going to test me to see if I'm something else? Skin-walker? Shape-shifter? Plasmavore?"

"If I want to, yes." Annabelle quickly grabbed his hand and cut his wrist with a silver knife, just to piss him off.

The Doctor hissed with pain, gritted his teeth, and twisted the hand holding the knife, sending it clattering to the floor. "Don't piss me off, Annabelle," he growled, the Oncoming Storm smoldering in his eyes. This was the side of him that destroyed his people and Daleks in the Time War, the side of him that killed several alien species in cold blood, the side of him that had whole armies turn and run at the sound of his name. She'd always thought he'd been exaggerating before, but now she had no trouble believing that he was capable of all that and more. He flipped their positions so her back was against the TARDIS, leaving little to no space between them.

Annabelle winced, her arm tensing under his grip. "Don't touch me, Doctor," she spat. She flipped their positions again with surprising strength. The look in her gray eyes hardened into the same anger and hatred she looked at the angels with. "I won't tolerate that look in your eyes any more than I will tolerate an intruder in my home. Don't push me. I'm not afraid of you. Not afraid of anything, really."

The Doctor flipped positions yet again, and for being so skinny, there was strength there she wasn't counting on. He didn't say anything, just narrowed his eyes and brought his hands up to her temples. Then he was inside her mind; rummaging through her memories, thoughts, dreams while keeping his own mind protected; and sent her into unconsciousness when he pulled out. She slumped against him, eyes closed, and he stepped back, let her slide to the floor. "You were wrong, you know, about being afraid," he told her softly, but she didn't hear him. She couldn't.

Rage coiled inside Dean. No one was allowed to hurt Annabelle, especially not right in front of him. "Hey!" he yelled at the Time Lord. "What the hell did you do to her?!" Dean was at her side now, trying to get her to wake up with no luck. He and Sam stood protectively in front of her, angel blades drawn. "You're gonna pay for that," Dean snarled.

"She's unconscious," the Doctor told the hunters coldly, "and she won't wake up until I go back inside her mind." His voice hardened. "As for making me pay, what's the worst you can do? Gallifrey's gone; the Time Lords are dead; my lover is in a parallel universe with another man who looks just like me—but he's not, because he could never be me, not when he's part-human and isn't that just disgusting—and I'm already going to die. Just not right here right now."

"Well, boo-hoo." Dean was unsympathetic. "Fix her and get out of here." His tone and expression were stone cold.

"Still didn't answer my question, Dean," the Doctor said. He made no move to help Annabelle, turned his Oncoming Storm glare on Dean. "What's the worst you can do to me?"

"I can find a way to kill you and if you don't help Annabelle, I swear I will. She trusted you. Now look at what you've done." Dean glanced back at Annabelle, his gaze softening towards her.

"Humans," the Doctor said in a voice filled with disgust. "You find something you don't like you either threaten to kill it, or kill it and ask questions later. You never change. Other species should stay away from this planet because the monsters are coming: the human race. Sometimes I wonder why I hang around you so much."

"You made it a helluva long time around us," Dean snapped. His tone sharpened. "I knew something was off with you the first time she came home with you. You would've been fine if you hadn't hurt her. Now, wake her up and get out. Don't show your face or your little space ship around here and you'll be safe. Hurry up."

The Doctor rolled his eyes but crouched down next to Annabelle anyway. His hands found her temples; she opened her eyes as soon as he removed his fingers, a groan in her throat. She scrambled back, away from him. Dean stepped between Annabelle and the Doctor; Annabelle stopped, stayed still, knowing Dean wouldn't let anything happen to her. "Now leave," Dean ordered.

The Doctor stared back at him, expression steely. "No."

"Go!" Dean snapped firmly.

"No, Dean," Annabelle said suddenly, voice shaky. "I think we should just leave. Let's . . . let's go find somewhere else."

"Annabelle—"

"Dean, come on." She rose to her feet and gently tugged at Dean's arm until he gave in. They backed towards the door, Sam following after them. Annabelle tried to keep the betrayal she was feeling out of her eyes, but she couldn't quite hide it.

"I guess I was wrong in choosing you as a companion," the Doctor called after her. "Funny, none of you strike me as the type to give up easily." There was an odd glint in his eyes, a mixture of smugness and something else—challenge, maybe? But then, it was always hard to judge his moods. He'd slide from one to another in a split second, or several emotions would be warring within him at once, giving away nothing at what was going on in his mind.

"Don't challenge me," Annabelle warned him. "I'm not giving up. This isn't over."

"You're right," he countered, "it's not. Be careful, Annabelle. You don't want me as an enemy." There was warning and something she couldn't yet identify in his voice, which was calm, cold, and barely restrained.

"I didn't make you my enemy," she fired back. "You betrayed me, led me on. Although I guess I should've seen it coming."

His brows knit in confusion. "Leading you on?" He was genuinely puzzled, and for a moment he sounded like the old Doctor.

Annabelle shook her head, looked away. "I'm not falling for that again. Nice try though. Very convincing."

"No, seriously. How have I led you on?" Humans, always reading into things that aren't even there. He took a step forward, freezing when Dean and Sam trained their blades on him.

Annabelle moved an equal distance back. "You acted like you felt bad, like you were trying to make up for what you've done. You got me to trust you. You know, I looked up to you. I looked up to the way you did everything trying not to hurt either party unless necessary." She looked at Dean. "I want to leave now."

"Alright, kid," Dean said. "Let's go." They walked out of the house into the driveway, and opened the doors of the Impala, not checking to see if the Time Lord was following them. "I WAS!" the Doctor yelled at Annabelle, answering her earlier assumptions. He whirled around, kicked at the side of the house. Then he jumped up and down, wincing in pain and holding his foot. "Ow. Ow. Ow. Owwww. That hurt, that hurt. That hurt."

Tangled-up emotions were overrunning Annabelle: anger, fear, confusion. "What are you doing now, then?!" she yelled at the Time Lord. "Twelve species and you say it like it's nothing! Like they didn't matter! You taught me that everyone matters! Where did that part of you go?!"

"It died a while back," he said with more than a hint of black humor. "It's been, what, a few months for you, Annabelle? For me, it's been three years."

The confusion and fear Annabelle was feeling were replaced solely by disbelief and anger. "I've always offered you my support! I've always said my door is open if you want to talk! All you had to do was find me! We could've talked it out! Now you've gone and crossed the line! I can't help you now! My hands are tied now! You're on your own!" Forgetting about the Impala, wanting to be alone and think things over, she ran down the street to a park and found somewhere out of sight. She sat down, working on keeping herself from crying, and listened to make sure no one followed her.

The Doctor ignored Sam and Dean's death glares and went after her, moving as silently as possible so Annabelle wouldn't hear him. Her back was to him as he came up behind her. "Sorry if I hurt your precious feelings," he said sarcastically, insincerely.

She jumped, startled, and her voice turned to a low growl: "I thought it was obvious I didn't want to see your face. Screw off." Annabelle got up without looking at him and started walking away towards the jungle gym where a bunch of little kids were playing, hoping having more people around would get him to leave.

The Doctor watched her for a moment before following. "You're gonna have to do better than that if you want me to leave," he informed her coolly. His eyes drifted from her to the little kids, and they softened for a moment. He remembered traveling with Susan, his granddaughter; then with Ace, in his seventh body; and Sam Jones, in his eighth. Then he shook off the memories and focused on the teenage hunter again. "I don't scare easy, not anymore. You should know that by now."

"If you don't leave," she warned, "I'll scream and say you were trying to kidnap me. See all the moms? Every single one of them will call it in and take pity on me. Back off."

He stopped, considering. "Well, you could do that, yeah," he agreed. "But you won't. Because you're still curious, still want to help me—see if I can be helped. You want to know? Then come with me." He spotted her hesitation. "I don't bite, you know."

Annabelle glared at him. "You invaded my mind and knocked me out. Don't act like you wouldn't kill me in a heartbeat if it meant bettering yourself. If you're even going to tell me anything tell me right here right now."

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it while I was inside your mind, don't you think?" His expression turned scornful, almost wounded. "Besides, I've never killed any of my companions. Well, Adric died, but that was the Cybermen. It wasn't my fault."

Annabelle snapped, "Well if you didn't want to be accused of wanting to kill me you should've been straight with me and told me the problem right off the bat! I have a track record of people who keep secrets from me attempting to take my life!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, didn't bother to keep the annoyance out of his voice: "Yeah, can we keep the domestics out of this? Thanks. And what would I have said? You're smart enough; you would've figured it out on your own."

She retorted, "Yeah, well, sometimes figuring things out on my own hurts." Annabelle crossed her arms, a defiant look in her gray eyes. "Why do you think Sam does all the research?"

"Well, Dean's obviously not going to do it," the Doctor said, "and you seem like you'd rather be out in the field." He shrugged. "And Cass isn't always around to give his insight. Besides, Sam seems to like doing it, from what I've seen. But seriously, what could I have told you? That I've gone to the Dark Side of the Force?" he added sardonically.

Annabelle pretended to think about it before saying sarcastically, "Hmm, yeah, a little heads up would've been nice now that you mention it!"

"And what, have you run out on me? No, ta. 'Sides, the Force doesn't even exist. Well, maybe, but only in Star Wars. Anyway, that's not the point. And if you think this me is scary, you should meet my seventh body. I really was a manipulative git back then."

Annabelle chose her words carefully. "I don't think you're scary. I think it's scary that I let my guard down around you and led you into my home." She couldn't quite contain her anger as she continued, "You, sir, have made yourself look very bad in front of three of the most powerful people on this earth and we're not exactly the 'forgive and forget' type. If you had stopped for a moment and just thought 'You know, maybe Annabelle can help me with this' we wouldn't be here. We wouldn't be arguing. You would not have lost every bit of respect I had for you. So riddle me this, Doctor: How do you plan on fixing this?"

His upper lip curled in a silent snarl. "You don't think I scare you, eh? Try telling that to the Daleks. And why would I want your help? I don't need some stupid little ape dictating my actions."

She flashed him a defiant smirk. "That's exactly why. Because you think you're so superior. You think I'm just a stupid ape; that I hold no power, right? That's where you're wrong. You don't want me as an enemy not the other way around. You're just another challenge to me."

"And here's a newsflash for you: I'm not human," he snarled. "Sometimes I think you need reminding. As for me not wanting you as an enemy . . . oh, that's where you are wrong. I've ended lives, I've ended worlds. I've done it all. Trickster feared, far from revered in many different legends. Don't you want to know why I'm known as the Bringer of Darkness, the Oncoming Storm?"

She forced herself to sound indifferent. "Can't you tell that I don't care what you've done, who you are? Regardless of whether or not you're human, you sure as hell are capable of handling yourself like more than a child throwing a temper tantrum. Here's a newsflash for you: you're not the only one who's killed here. Don't act like your body count can intimidate me."

"I've told you: I don't have the same morality as your species. And don't say you're not going to get used to it, because I don't care what you think." He sniffed. "Besides, Time Lords don't throw temper tantrums." The Doctor stared into her gray eyes, his expression dark, unreadable, chilling. "I'm so old now. I used to have so much mercy. Not anymore. No second chances. I'm that sort of a man," he said quietly, menacingly.

Annabelle glared at him, a bunch of biting remarks running through her mind. "If you're so freaking superior, so powerful, so amazing, so done with second chances," she argued, "why would you save the human race? Why would you 'grow fond' of us? Why not watch our destruction and move on? Why not try to take over? Do you know what kind of human I am? A vengeful one. Right now I'd like nothing more than to tear you apart."

"Well, you lot can be cruel, caring, brilliant, stupid, destructive, but you're never boring." He leaned back against a tree. "My people were pompous, stuffy. They adopted a policy to watch over the universe but never interfere. I couldn't live like that; even staying at the Academy was driving me mad. So my granddaughter and I eventually stole a Type 40 TARDIS from a museum and exiled ourselves from Gallifrey. My second chances policy is for my enemies, or other alien species who have tried destroying your planet.

"Do you think I've never been tempted to let your species die? When I was trapped on a bus with humans traveling across the diamond planet of Midnight, an unknown life-form possessed one of the riders, who then used her to mimic all of our voices. When she latched onto me and stole my voice, the other human passengers tried to kill me, after blaming me for the whole incident." His mouth lazily stretched into a sneer. "As for tearing me to pieces, I'd like to see you try. Annabelle Winchester, the key to the war in heaven and hell. Aside from that you're not important! Not even remotely important!"

Her angel blade was in her hand now, a deadly look in her eyes. "Gee, you sure know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?"

The Doctor eyed the angel blade warily, hoping that he'd at least have a chance to regenerate if she did stab him. Then a sly look lit in his dark brown eyes, and he smirked. "Aw, you know you love it," he drawled.

"Maybe in the past," she said. "Now . . . it's just hatred." Annabelle let her eyes travel over his body, wondering where to strike first.

His smirk widened, eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, really? I've been inside your head. You've been looking. You like it."

Annabelle stepped forward, the stone cold look replaced by mischief. Her angel blade drooped lazily in her hand as she caressed his cheek. Then she slapped him, the cold look returning. "You're visually pleasing, sure, but for you to think I could actually ever fall for you?" She scoffed. "Pathetic. And now you've made a fatal mistake by allowing me this close to you." An absent look came into her eyes as she stabbed him.

He rolled away from her, grimacing in pain. The kids and their parents were long gone by now, and it was just the two of them in the park. The blade just missed his left heart, but only barely, and already he could feel his cells rejuvenating to repair the wound. If he was not careful, he'd trigger the regeneration process. Besides, it wasn't time, not yet—it couldn't be. And really, this was not one of his preferred ways to go: regeneration by stab wound. At least he didn't trip over a brick—that would be embarrassing. His eyes closed and he crashed on the snow-covered grass, just barely catching himself. Rassilon, this hurt, and while he normally healed quickly, it didn't make it any less painful. When he was sure the wound was fully healed, he opened his eyes, focused on his former companion. "Hello."

She just stared at him, a fierce anger burning in her eyes, her chest heaving and hands shaking as she struggled to control the rage. Her grip on the angel blade was so tight that her knuckles had turned white. "You should be dead," Annabelle said tightly.

His dark eyes burned up at her. "Time Lord," he growled. "It takes more than that for me to regenerate."

"I don't care. Just die." It sounded like an order rather than a wish, she realized.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," the Doctor said, rising to his feet. "Besides, there's already been an alternate timeline where I died. There was more death and destruction than if I'd lived. You need me, like it or not." He smirked, faintly. "And I don't want to die; sorry to disappoint you. But even when I change it feels like dying. Some new man goes sauntering away, and I am dead."

Annabelle wanted to ask him what the hell he was talking about, but she didn't want to appear weak in front of him. Instead she ordered, "Don't you dare follow me this time." Without waiting to see his reaction, she turned and ran off again. To make sure he didn't follow her, she convinced Cass to pop her back to where she left Sam and Dean. Annabelle slipped into the Impala behind Dean. She growled, "Step on it. Now."

Dean did as she said, not asking questions. They didn't stop until they needed gas and something to eat. The drive gave Annabelle too much time to think, so while Dean was filling up the car's gas tank and Sam was getting them all something to eat, she found herself a place alone and let go of the emotions she'd been holding back. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She punched a wall in frustration, blaming herself for the whole thing, for not seeing that something was wrong sooner.

-oOo-

The Doctor went back to his TARDIS, sent it into the Vortex, and then wandered into the library, where a fireplace was going. Through their link, he felt his ship's concern and snapped at her to leave him alone. She gave him the equivalent of a sulky look but withdrew, let him think.

Yes, he was a git to Annabelle and her family; yes, he could have handled himself better—but who was she to tell him what to do, to almost kill him? The universe didn't revolve around her, as much as she liked to think it did, and she was only fourteen—a child, compared to him. She wasn't the last of her kind; hadn't had to commit genocide on her own species, her family; hadn't had to destroy her own planet. She hadn't had to live through the horror of the Last Great Time War, where millions of species were dying every second. And while the Time War went unnoticed to lesser species, to humans, it affected higher species—affected the whole of the universe. Meeting Rose was the one bright spot in his existence after the Time War, and when she'd gone, it had been harder and harder for him to keep his demons at bay. Even when she was traveling with him it had been work for him to control his darker nature. Now that he'd been on his own for so long, it was no wonder that he'd fallen prey to his darker side.

-oOo-

It took Annabelle a long time to regain her composure, but she eventually headed back to the Impala and immersed herself in finding the three of them a case. After a while longer driving in near silence, Dean found his voice: "What happened, kid?"

"Nothing, Dean," she snapped, sighing. "Leave it alone. It's done."

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked her.

"I'm always okay. Just drop it, alright?"

Dean fell quiet again. Annabelle breathed the words "thank you" and continued trying to find a case.

-oOo-

The Doctor went into the console room, debated with himself, and then set to work at the console. After fixing the TARDIS to track the Impala, he ducked into the wardrobe room for a change of clothes, emerging minutes later in jeans, a light-blue T-shirt, and a black jacket he didn't even know he had.

-oOo-

They ended up stopping for the night; even though Annabelle wanted to keep going, she opted for her own room. Once inside, she did a bunch of little chores to keep herself distracted, giving up on that when it failed. She felt tears sting her eyes again and crawled into bed, hoping to sleep it all away.

-oOo-

The Doctor took the TARDIS out of the Vortex, making it visible to any who happened to be looking up into the night sky, and landed it a couple blocks over from where the Impala was parked so the hunters wouldn't see or hear him arrive. He checked into a room but didn't sleep—he'd slept a few days ago for a full cycle. And if they did find him, well, he could pass for human easily enough; he had all of his memories from when he was John Smith hiding out in 1913, after all.

-oOo-

Annabelle fell asleep but only managed to sleep half the night. She remembered seeing a sitting area outside and went out to sit there. Her eyes closed as she leaned back in the chair, breathing in the night air.

-oOo-

He was feeling antsy, restless. The Doctor didn't really like confined spaces—he was rather used to how his TARDIS was bigger on the inside—and besides, there wasn't much in his room anyway. So he opened his hotel room door and stepped out into the hallway, deciding to explore a little. Yes, he could run into Annabelle and her guardians, but frankly, he didn't care.

His feet took him past the little gym and indoor swimming pool, where there was a view of a sitting area outside. He paused when he saw the teenager already out there. Then he decided, "To hell with it," and pushed open the door that led outside. "Mind if I join you?" he asked in a Scottish accent. Combine the accent with his clothes and the way he'd styled his hair, chances were she wouldn't recognize him, especially not on a night as black as this.

Annabelle didn't open her eyes. "It's a public space, but I swear if you try anything you won't like the results."

"Then I won't try anything," he said, taking a seat in the chair next to hers, suddenly thankful that there was a table between them.

The two of them sat in silence for a while. Eventually Annabelle became uncomfortable with the silence between them and took out her phone. She messed with it for a few minutes before "Never Too Late" by Three Days Grace started playing quietly. The man could barely hear it, due to the low volume, or so she figured. "I hope you don't mind the music," she said. Annabelle couldn't see much of him in the dark, but she thought he was wearing jeans and a dark jacket. He was Scottish, too, judging by the accent.

"Not at all," he replied. "Couldn't sleep, eh?"

Annabelle sighed, trying to make up something to say. "Yeah . . . It's been a long day. Should've slept in the car, I guess."

"Mmm. Me, I suffer from insomnia." It was the quickest lie he could think of, and possibly the most accurate. He didn't want her knowing who he was, not yet. Besides, he still hadn't forgiven her for trying to kill him. He was lucky that he hadn't regenerated from that little incident. The Doctor, wanting to keep his charade going a little longer, took out Martha's mobile and went through the music choices before settling on "Heroes" by Shinedown. He kept it at medium volume, lips twitching as the lyrics started.

"Stare in wonder; who's here to bring you down? Find your martyr; I'm sure you've made the crown. So light a fire under my bones, so when I die for you, at least I'll die alone. Ain't nothing for me to end up like this. There's no comparing me this time."

"Yeah?" Annabelle said. "That's too bad. Least the weather's decent here." She stopped to listen to the lyrics of his song as they caught her attention:

"All my heroes have now become ghosts; sold their sorrow to the ones who paid the most. All my heroes are dead and gone, but down inside of me, they still live on.

"Dark devotion in a beacon paradise shows no emotion to a willing sacrifice. You can put a man on trial, but you can't make the guilty pay. And you can cage an animal, but you can't take away the rage. . . ."

Annabelle got up and began pacing. She was suddenly feeling on edge but she wasn't sure why.

"Considering it's winter, yeah, it's not too cold," the Doctor agreed. He smiled a little, but between the darkness and the fact he wasn't looking at her, it was hard to see. "You're not doing anything for Christmas, I take it."

"I can't stand Christmas, which was today if memory serves," she said in a warning growl. "I spent it on the road, as always."

He threw his hands up in an appeasing gesture, an innocent expression on his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." His phone switched to the next track on the album: "Save Me".

"I got a candle and I've got a spoon. I live in a hallway with no doors and no rooms. Under a windowsill they all were found, a touch of concrete in the doorway, without a sound. . . ."

Annabelle waved the apology off and stopped pacing briefly when the song changed. She continued pacing, glanced at the stranger then quickly away. "Are you here visiting someone?"

He smiled again, faintly. "Not really, no. I'm just traveling. I had a friend with me, but she left to be with her family."

". . . How did I get here, and what went wrong? Couldn't handle forgiveness. Now I'm far beyond gone. I can hardly remember the look of my own eyes. How can I love this, a life so dishonest it made me compromise? . . ."

"It's just me, now," he said.

Annabelle felt her lip quiver; she mentally scolded herself but wasn't able to stop a tear from rolling down her cheek. She turned away from the stranger to make sure he didn't see. "Oh I see. I guess people just . . . aren't very dependable, huh?"

He smiled again, wider this time. "I guess you could say that."

". . . Someone save me if you will, and take away all these pills. And please just save me if you can from my blasphemy in my wasteland. Jump in the water. Jump in with me. Jump on the altar. Lay down with me. . . ."

Annabelle tried to brighten the mood a bit, though the statement came out sounding like a wish: "Maybe things will get better around New Year's."

The Doctor shrugged and switched out of the Shinedown category to Def Leppard, selected "Desert Song". "Maybe. Maybe not." This time, he couldn't hide the smirk as the lyrics started up: "Dark and dirty like you've never seen. A mind so twisted with thoughts so unclean. My heart is racing, all tattered and torn. I stand here naked as the day I was born. Only the lonely will stand. I'm holding the world in my hand. I've got to believe.

"The sky is falling on a setting sun, echoes of silence ringing loud and long. This isolation is the king of me, a lost horizon on an ocean of pain. . . ."

Annabelle stopped pacing. "You've got an interesting taste in music."

"Thanks. So do you. Three Days Grace, am I right?"

Annabelle had forgotten she had music playing. She glanced down, realized the song had been on repeat. "Yeah." She turned Repeat off, and "Over My Head" by the Fray came on. She couldn't help but hum along quietly:

"I never knew. I never knew that everything was falling through. That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue to turn and run when all I needed was the truth. But that's disregard. You find another friend and you discard as you lose the argument on the cable car hanging above as the canyon comes between. And everyone knows I'm in over my head over my head. With 8 seconds left in overtime she's on your mind, she's on your mind. . . ."

"That's the Fray, yeah?" the Doctor asked. Suddenly bored, he didn't wait for an answer and switched to the next song on the Retro Active album. His smirk turned into a roguish grin.

"I'm caught in a dream. Sometimes it ain't what it seems. I'm all in a daze; can't fight my way out of this maze. I'm looking for cues. I'm wanting a change in the rules. I'm locked in a cage, acting out on the wrong stage. Don't want your sympathy—no, no, no. Don't need the third degree—no, no, no. Just got to break away and scream. I'm caught in a dream.

"I've stood at the edge and I'm looking down, caught in the danger zone. I feel like a king that has lost his crown, and now I stand here alone.

"Don't want your sympathy, no. Don't need the third degree, no. . . ."

Annabelle sat down again and brought her knees to her chest. A couple minutes passed and her song changed to Shinedown's "Second Chance." She chose a star and stared at it, becoming lost in thought.

"My eyes are open wide. By the way, I made it through the day. I watch the world outside. By the way, I'm leaving out today . . ."

The Doctor noticed her vacant expression. "Penny for your thoughts, lassie," he prodded her.

". . . I don't care if you pull down the sky. Angry passion is a friend of mine. Reach out for the sky above. It's just a fractured love. . ."

She snapped out of it. "I'm sorry? I spaced out."

He gave her a "no duh" look. "Yeah, I could tell. Penny for your thoughts, lass?"

"I can't give you the full story. . . . I've just caused some trouble lately. . . . I feel really stupid for what I did." Now she sounded angry towards herself. "I could've ignored it. I could've been home right now. Could've been safe. . . . Now . . . I don't know if I'll ever go home."

The Doctor smiled to himself. Oh, this was fun. Humans were so easy to manipulate, and he wondered why this incarnation hadn't done it before. "At least you have a home to go back to. I can't go home. Ever. It was lost in a fire years ago. My whole family died. I keep traveling, never staying in one place for too long—mostly because it drives me barmy, mostly because I don't want getting too attached—and out of guilt, I suppose. But enough about me. What about you?" He switched albums to Pyromania, chose "Die Hard the Hunter." There was a brief helicopter sound, then guitar, and he closed his eyes to listen, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth when the vocals kicked in.

"Welcome home, soldier boy (from far away, far away). No angel of mercy, just a need to destroy (fire away, fire away). Let's toast the hero with blood in his eyes. The scars on his mind took so many lives. Die hard the hunter.

"Welcome home, soldier boy. Put down your pistol, yeah, put down your toy. Yeah, they can take a gun away from you but never take away your attitude. They can't do that, oh no, no, no. They can't do that. You got no enemy, no front line. The only battle's in the back of your mind. You don't know how to change from bad to good. You brought the war to your neighborhood. You can't do that, oh no, no, you can't do that. . . ."

Her music changed to "It's Not My Time" as an alarm went off in her mind. It was telling her to run, to get away from this man as fast as she could: He was dangerous. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as she gave in to the alarm. "I should go. Sorry about your home and your family. I, um—" Annabelle almost tripped over a table as she backed away, but she caught herself. "Bye." She slipped inside, jogged back to her room.

The Doctor grinned at her hasty exit, laughing softly to himself. He stopped the song, turned off Martha's phone, slipped it into his jeans pocket, and followed her path, heading to his own room. Before he did, though, he tracked her scent to her room, made note of her room number. Then he headed to his own room, flopping onto the bed for a catnap.

-oOo-

Annabelle stayed put until morning. Sam and Dean came in to say they'd be staying there for a while because Sam had found a vengeful spirit case in town. They told Annabelle to get ready, since they had a meeting with the sheriff. Once she was ready they headed out and didn't return until noon.

-oOo-

That next morning, the Doctor waited until they were well gone and out on the case before breaking in to Annabelle's room with the sonic screwdriver. He did a quick search, not really expecting to find anything, and was pleasantly surprised when he found Annabelle's journal. Speed-reading it took a few seconds, though he grinned at her latest entry, which took note of the change in his behavior. He wondered if she'd told Dean and Sam about meeting him, even though she didn't know he was the one she'd been talking to the night before. Footsteps outside the door alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone, and he tossed the journal back into its original position, ducked into a hiding place, and slipped a perception filter around his neck.

Annabelle seemed to be in a better mood as she opened the door. The grin that played on her lips faded as she noticed her journal was out of place, and she drew her blade. She called out, "Hello? Anyone here?"

"What is it, kid?" Dean asked.

"Go," she said to him and Sam. "I can handle myself. It's probably nothing."

"Do we need to leave?" Dean queried.

"We're staying," she decided. "Go on."

The boys left. Annabelle searched the room but found nothing. She sat down on the edge of the bed, the act of being okay and in a better mood fading. The Doctor heard her mutter to herself, "What am I doing? This is stupid. No more self-pity. Go take off the makeup. Change. Eat something. Anything but this." She rose, grabbed some more comfortable clothes, and disappeared into the bathroom. The Doctor could hear running water, and figured she was scrubbing the makeup off.

He stayed absolutely still and silent, knowing that if he did anything to attract attention to himself then the illusion would be broken and she'd notice him before he wanted her to. The thought crossed his mind that standing just inside the doorway wasn't the best place ever to hide, but he'd had a limited range of options. He shook off the thought.

Annabelle came out after finishing up in the bathroom and collapsed on the bed after grabbing her journal. She rolled onto her stomach and began writing about the case and the strange man she met the night before, sometimes muttering sentence fragments to see how they would sound.

The Doctor took off the perception filter, but Annabelle was too focused on her writing to look up. He smirked. "Self-pity, eh?" he said, using the Scottish accent from the night before. "And, just out of curiosity, you wouldn't be writing about me, would you?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, took up the angel blade. "Oh God, you're a stalker, aren't you?" She studied his face carefully. Something clicked, but she couldn't quite place it. "No . . . I know you, don't I? Who are you?"

He grinned and slid his legs out in front of him a little, bracing his back on the wall, and crossed his arms. "You know me. I'm the winner. I've always been the winner. I'm the Lonely God, the Bringer of Darkness, and the Destroyer of Worlds. I'm the trickster, the riddler, he of the many faces who walks through doors. The Oncoming Storm; the Time Lord Victorious." His eyes glinted with an unidentifiable emotion, and there was nothing warm about his grin now. It was dark, terrifying. "Hello, Annabelle." A line from "Die Hard the Hunter" ran through his head: Back in the city he's a man on the loose. He is the shadow that's been following you. He takes no prisoners when he's hunting for game. He's got a bullet and it carries your name. "Basically, run."

She paled before throwing everything into her bag. A mixture of anger and fear churned in her eyes, in her gut. "I told you not to follow me! And I suppose it was you I practically spilled my heart to last night! I should've known! God, I hate you! Do you have any idea—?!" She broke off as the realization hit her. "That was the feeling last night!" Annabelle picked up the bag, slipping into the flats from her earlier formal outfit, and stormed from the room. "Sam! Dean! We've gotta go now!"

The Doctor slipped the perception filter back on his neck and followed her, staying far enough back so she wouldn't be able to stab him if she ever did end up noticing him.

"What?! What do you mean?!" Dean asked her, shocked.

"He's here. He's watching." Annabelle sounded panicked, and while the Doctor didn't blame her, he did preen a little from satisfaction. "We need to leave now." She grabbed their bags and headed for the Impala, calling back over her shoulder, "If you aren't coming I'll drive away on my own!"

Without waiting for their response, she got in the car and waited for Sam and Dean. It wasn't long before they came out and took their respective seats.

"You're sure you can't talk him down?" Dean asked Annabelle.

"Mr. Superior would never let me help," she muttered darkly. "Go. Now."

The Doctor, without any of the Winchesters noticing, was able to slip into the Impala's backseat before Dean hit the gas. It meant he was sitting right behind Sam, but since Annabelle was sitting behind Dean, he felt relatively safe for now.

"Where are we going?" Dean asked.

"Just drive. Go far. Go fast. I'll tell you when to stop." Annabelle was silent for a minute; then she slammed the palm of her hand against the back of Dean's seat. "Dammit! I knew we should've kept going!"

"Hey, calm down. You didn't know."

"I knew he'd be watching! We had a lovely conversation last night! I knew something was off! I should've said something! How did I not put it together?!"

After she ranted for a while about her stupidity, Dean pulled over to let her release some of the anger. She stood next to the Impala, kicking one of the wheels and cursing for a long time.

The Doctor watched from the backseat, an amused smile on his lips. He fought back a laugh; any noise he'd make would alert them to his presence, and he didn't want that. He was rather fond of this body; he didn't want to regenerate yet. Why would he?

Sam got out of the car, placed a comforting hand on Annabelle's back. She swatted his hand away, and he caught her wrist gently. Calmly, he asked her, "What happened last night?"

Annabelle took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down enough to explain. Even so, her sentences came out sounding short. "I couldn't sleep. I went outside. Everything was hitting me full force. He came out. We talked. I didn't realize—!" Nope, the deep breaths weren't working. Her voice grew angry again. "He said his family and home died in a fire! That was the biggest clue! Sam, I'm an idiot! I'm stupid!" She went back to kicking at the car with more force. Sam pulled her back, though she kicked and screamed in frustration. Sam held onto her until she went still.

"You need to calm down," he told her. "It's not your fault."

She shook her head, sounding close to hysterics. "It's all my fault! You don't understand; you weren't there! It's my fault we're running again! Now let me go!" She elbowed Sam and stood in a fighting position. "Don't touch me!" she snapped.

"Whoa, kid seriously?" Dean threw in incredulously. "Take a deep breath!"

"No!" Annabelle screamed.

The Doctor's eyes darkened as he listened to her hysterics. Yes, she tried to kill him, but only because he'd manipulated her, played her. If anything, it was his fault. But he couldn't stop, he realized, and what's worse, he didn't want to stop. He didn't want to be saved, not this time. He wasn't human; he was a Time Lord—the last of the Time Lords. If he wanted, he could bend Time and the universe to his will—and who was going to stop him? He had that right, that power, and there was no higher authority. Besides, he hadn't had this much fun in ages, not since Rose and Donna. As for Martha, well, he'd given her what she'd wanted, even if it wasn't in the way she'd expected—and while it had broken her, he'd been able to detach himself emotionally even as he'd enjoyed a sick sort of satisfaction. The Doctor jolted himself out of his thoughts, focused on Sam and Annabelle's argument once more.

"You've gotta stop this," the Moose was telling her. "It's not your fault."

"Sam, it is one-hundred percent my fault!"

"Remember what I told you about Ruby? How I misjudged her?"

"Why are you bringing that up?"

"That's what happened with you and the Doctor."

Annabelle's voice was more than slightly hysterical as she replied, "No, you don't understand! If he wanted to he could wipe you from history! Everything you've done, gone! Everything we worked so hard to avoid! Everything! I told him everything! He knows heaven, the angels, my family, your family, our home! We can never go back to Lincoln because of this! Because of me! We'll never have a permanent home! We'll be running until it kills us! I can't do this! I can't! I'm just a burden to you! Go! Get in the car! Leave me here! He can come and get me! Maybe he'll leave you alone! GO!" Her final yell seemed to echo.

"We're not leaving you," Dean said firmly. "We never would. Get back in the car. Come on. It'll be—"

"Don't try to say it'll be okay!" Annabelle snapped. "I'm not that stupid! It will never be okay! I tried to kill him, not you! He wants me! Let him have me!"

The Doctor, at this point, decided he'd heard enough and slipped out of the Impala's backseat, shutting the door and walking around to where Annabelle and Sam are standing. He wasn't entirely sure if the perception filter was still working or not, but he was willing to keep it on for now—just until he'd heard Sam's final decision.

Sam sighed, defeated "Are you sure?"

"Death never scared me before. I have to, Sam. I have to."

"We'll find a way to bring you back," he said after a pause.

She shook her head. "Don't. He'll probably put me somewhere millions of years from here. Thanks for everything. Be careful. Don't let Dean do anything stupid."

"You got it."

She allowed both of the boys to hug her, tears in all of their eyes. Annabelle watched the Impala drive away before she sat waiting for the Doctor to come, knowing it was all over now.

He considered drawing out the suspense a few minutes longer, just to mess with her, then reconsidered and took off the perception filter. A crooked smile quirked on his face as he rocked back on his heels, keeping well out of range of her knife. "Hello."

She threw all of her weapons into the brush, well out of both of their reach, and put her hands up, signaling surrender. "I'm done. I give up, although I suppose you already know that. Take me. Do what you want to me but leave Sam and Dean alone."

He shrugged a little. "All right, I won't hurt Dean or Sam. You, on the other hand . . ." He raked his eyes over her body before turning around and starting jogging. "TARDIS is over here. C'mon." He knew they didn't make it that far out of town before she had them stop the car—a couple miles at most, and the hotel was on the outskirts of town. Every so often, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was following him. Sixteen minutes later, they were at the entrance to town; it took another two minutes to arrive at the TARDIS. He opened the door, shoved her inside before stepping in after her and shutting the door. He took the jacket off and slung it over one of the coral struts on his way to the console. A few quick movements at the controls and they were in the Vortex, then deep space, spinning in orbit above a red star. The whole time he didn't say anything, didn't look twice at her, but the expression in his eyes was disturbing.

Annabelle sat down holding her knees to her chest. She truly wasn't afraid of death, wasn't afraid of him—but she certainly felt betrayed. It hit her again, seeing that look in his eyes. She wanted to cry but refused to look weak in front of him. Instead she said quietly, "It always had to end like this, didn't it?"

He didn't say anything for a long while, and the silence stretched uncomfortably between them. "If that's how you want to think of it, then yes," the Doctor finally said. He looked over at her, brown eyes almost black and expression just as dark.

She looked down at the floor. "Funny how things end up," she mused. "You save me, now you kill me. Guess that's what people call a viscous cycle, huh?"

"Oh, I don't plan on killing you. Besides, you're the one who tried to kill me. Remember?"

"I was angry," Annabelle defended. "Still am. I thought it was clear I wanted to be alone. It was stupid. I shouldn't have done it." She swallowed. She didn't want to know the answer to her next question, but she asked it anyway. "What are you gonna do if you're not gonna kill me?"

He smirked, but with the way his eyes were staring at her, he looked almost evil. "Where would the fun be in me telling you?"

"Nowhere, I guess. . . ."

"Exactly," he said brightly. His face darkened. "Now, do you want to die?"

"I've thought about it . . . If I die it might solve the angel problem thus saving lives." She shrugged half-heartedly, a note of defeat creeping into her voice. "Besides, you were right. I'm not important. I'm just a soldier. No one will really care."

The Doctor shrugged. "There will come a time—or maybe it already has—whenyou'll have the chance to do something courageous, to do the right thing. I love those moments! I like to wave at them as they pass by."

"So I'm guessing you're just gonna drop me somewhere?" She scowled. "Wonderful."

"Oh, no, not at all," the Doctor said quickly. His mouth turned up in a crooked grin. "Why don't you get up, explore the TARDIS a little? Have some fun." He noticed her dubious look. "Don't worry," he added, trying to reassure her. "I don't bite—unless I feel like it or you piss me off."

Annabelle sighed, got up, and walked out of the console room, wandering around aimlessly.

The Doctor followed her, standing silently in the doorway of the room she was currently in. She didn't notice that he was there.

Annabelle had stumbled across her old room and was sitting down on the bed. She glanced around, noted that barely anything was there.

Her hand slid under the pillow, pulled out an angel blade she had stashed there. Annabelle regarded it for a moment before putting it back under the pillow with a wistful look, almost like she was wishing they were still allies.

"That wasn't meant for me, was it?" the Doctor asked from where he was leaning against the doorframe of her old room, eyes fixed on the angel blade. His gaze flicked coldly up to hers.

She jumped at his voice, almost reached for the blade again. "No. No, it was never meant for you. None of my weapons were supposed to be for you. I try not to kill those I consider friends." Her voice softened, and it sounded almost as if she were talking to herself: "Lately that's been getting harder and harder. Maybe I just have bad judgment."

"Or maybe that's me," he countered, "always picking little apes for companions." A certain memory came to him, and he bit back a growl. "I actually had to kick one out because he took advantage of both me and Rose."

"Who was that?" she asked.

"Adam." He snarled the name, felt his nails dig into his palms.

"Did he try to kill you too, or was he just stupid?"

His voice turned bitter, scathing, as he explained, "Rose and me originally came across him in an underground museum that housed alien specimens, the only live one being a Dalek. It escaped its cage and exterminated practically everyone on the base. Rose, meanwhile, had been getting all chummy with him and mentioned to me that he wanted to see the stars. So I did a favor for her and let him come along with us to Satellite Five in the year 200100. The idiot then went off and got a computer chip installed in his brain so that he is the computer, only it causes a little door to open up in his forehead so you can see his brain. He also stole Rose's mobile and used it to call back to his own home and time, leaving a message about the history of computers. One second of that phone call could have changed your history. Besides that, he betrayed us, gave the Editor and Jagrafess information about me and Rose. He almost got us killed."

"Ah. So, both?" Jokingly, Annabelle added, "Looks like I might have to cause some more trouble to achieve worst companion."

"Oh, I've had worse than you, believe me."

"Good. I didn't want to put forth the effort anyhow."

"What were you doing in here, anyway?" the Doctor asked suddenly.

"Just sitting. I mean, unless you want me to search through your personal belongings."

He probably deserved that barb, but he didn't care if she approved of his behavior or not. Instead, he decided to play with her a little. "What personal belongings?" The Doctor raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips.

"I'm sure if I looked hard enough I could find some." She gave him a challenging look, not bothering to even try to hide her smirk.

His own smirk looked almost evil now. He met her challenging gaze coolly, unflinching. His gaze was shrewd, calculating. "Then you're going to be searching for a long time." He shrugged in a devil-may-care way. "Who knows, you might even find yourself trapped in a room with no way out." Yes, he was trying to provoke her, to scare her. Once, he would have felt guilty about that. Now, he felt nothing. He was a different man from who he had been.

"Challenge accepted," Annabelle said. She slipped past him, started searching the TARDIS.

The Doctor silently ordered his ship to keep his room as far away from her as she could, along with the library, wardrobe, Rose's room, and any room that had Gallifreyan items and records stored inside. He didn't mind too much about the engine room, because there was a cliff Annabelle could fall off of—and personally, he could care less if she did. It wasn't so much that he didn't want her getting her hands on Gallifreyan secrets—because she couldn't read the circular script anyway, and really, he never let his previous companions know too much about his home planet—as the fact he didn't want her having any more leverage against him than she already did. His ship did as he asked, and it was all he could do to keep from messing with Annabelle further. Then again, why shouldn't he? It wasn't like she'd be able to stop him, after all.

Annabelle, meanwhile, was running around the TARDIS mostly just entertaining herself. She almost fell off the cliff in the engine room but stopped herself with a yelp and continued searching.

Then she stumbled across the pool.

"You have a freaking pool in here?!" she cried in disbelief. "How is that even possible?!"

The Doctor shrugged, grinned. "Don't look at me. I don't even remember how it got here. She must have created a swimming pool when she regenerated from her last look."

"Her last look? Do you have a farm hidden in here too? This is insane!" Clearly, Annabelle had forgotten that she was supposed to be mad at him, if only for a moment.

"No," he said, going on to explain, "The TARDIS, she's sort of like me. When she's badly damaged, she'll close herself off—refuse to let anyone in, including me—until she's repaired herself. More often than not, the desktop theme changes, as does the number of rooms and what's in them. TARDISes are built for at least six Time Lords to occupy; it's just me in this one."

"Interesting. What's your favorite part of the TARDIS?"

The Doctor avoided the question, stepped close behind her. "Feel like taking a swim?" His hands were lightly resting at the small of her back.

She tensed under his hands before she turned quickly and stepped away from him. "I prefer to stay dry and I would really appreciate it if you didn't touch me."

He plastered an innocent look on his face, took a step forward. The pool was at her back, and if he could keep her moving back away from him . . . "Okay, then." Rule Number One: The Doctor lies. "If that's what you want . . ." He took another step forward.

Annabelle put her hand out, aware of the pool. The look on her face was dead serious. "Quit it. Seriously."

"Why should I?" Before she could react, he gripped her by the wrists, pulled her to him. His gripped her wrists tightly, tight enough to break bone if she struggled, and it was hard for her to break free. His eyes held hers, dark, intense, making it almost impossible for her to look away. "You never did." In that moment, he wasn't sure if he was talking about himself, about the way she'd almost killed him, or about the numerous creatures she had probably tortured before killing. Either way, he didn't care; he was busy fighting the desire to crush her, break her, to listen to her screams as he had his way with her.

"I never did this!" she cried. "Let go! Please stop!" she begged.

He bared his teeth in a feral grin, eyes sliding past her and calculating the distance. "No." Then he released her, shoving her back away from him as he did so.

She stumbled back, falling into the pool with a splash. A horrified look in her eyes, she swam as far away as possible from his side of the pool. "What is wrong with you?!" she spluttered, spitting pool water out of her mouth as she glared at him while treading water.

"I'm not a demon or an evil shape-shifter if that's what you mean." The Doctor felt his lip curl in a disdainful sneer.

"I tried the silver; I know that! That's not what I meant!" She swam to the other side and pulled herself out. "Don't ever touch me!" she yelled across the pool at him.

"I'm still the Doctor," he said, answering her question. "I'm just not the Doctor you knew. That's all."

"I want the Doctor I knew back. At least he knew how to respect boundaries!"

A shadow of his old smile flickered across his face. "That's not happening. And this side of me has always been there. I've just stopped pretending." Why was that so hard for her to understand?

Annabelle just glared at him before storming from the room, still dripping wet, and made sure to lock her door when she went to dry off and change.

He watched her leave, expression unreadable, and then went into Rose's room. The TARDIS was still keeping it hidden from Annabelle, which he was grateful for, even though pain stabbed at his hearts whenever he occasionally came in here. But it helped remind him that she was real, that she hadn't been a figment of his imagination—even though he hated himself for leaving her with a half-human clone of himself, a mere shadow of a full Time Lord.

He was still there when the TARDIS alerted him to the fact that Annabelle had finished drying off and changing clothes. He slipped out of the room, headed down the twisting hallway.

In her room, Annabelle pushed any and all thoughts of the Doctor away. She covered her wrists with her sleeves and tried to sleep. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't fall asleep. It felt as if she would be ambushed at any second, and she hated that feeling.

The Doctor walked by her room, paused for a moment, and then passed by. It wasn't worth antagonizing her further, not now. If he pushed her too hard too soon, she would probably try stabbing him again—and he wasn't fond of the idea of either dying or regenerating.

He headed to the wardrobe for another change of clothes—this time into a black suit with gray pinstripes and dark gray shirt with a red tie and red Converse—and then headed out into the console room, opened one of the doors, and sat there, watching the red star that his ship was orbiting. There was no sound for a while except the noise of the time rotor.

Annabelle, meanwhile, had snuck out of her room once she was sure he was gone and crept silently away from the console room—experience told her that was where he went to think.

After a while, the Doctor started feeling restless and wondered what his companion was up to. He climbed to his feet, stretched out the pins-and-needles, and walked out of the console room. "Annabelle?" he called.

She tensed at his voice and slipped into the nearest room, feeling her heart race as if she were avoiding some monster on a hunt.

The Doctor heard the doors slide shut and started in that direction, keeping silent. He didn't want to alert her to the fact that he might have a fix on her location. Besides, it was his ship; did she really think she could hide from him?

-oOo-

Annabelle shrank back in the far corner of the room, trying to make herself seem as small as possible. If she did, then maybe he wouldn't find her.

Oh, God, please don't let him find me. Her eyes squeezed shut: that old childhood thinking of If I can't see it then it can't see me. She felt sick with fear, like she was going to throw up. All those monsters, those supernatural creatures, she'd hunted . . . None of them had scared her this much.

The Doctor was the biggest monster of them all, she realized with dread. He could drop from the sky without warning, destroy everything you'd ever worked for, murder your entire species, and leave without so much as a backward glance. The cheerful smiles and hyperactivity had just been a mask, nothing more, covering up the darkness simmering within.

She hadn't seen it in him because she hadn't wanted to see it.

And that terrified her more than anything.

-oOo-

The Doctor slowly approached the room he thought his companion was hiding in, slid open the door. His eyes adjusted easily to the dark, and he could hear her shallow breathing. Mentally, he ordered the lights to brighten by twenty percent, making it bright enough for her to see him. Then he noticed Annabelle crouched in the far corner. He frowned. "What're you doing in here?" he asked, puzzled, in the same tone of voice he'd used when asking Donna what she was doing in a wedding dress.

"Obviously I'm trying to summon the freaking devil," Annabelle said sarcastically. "What do you think?"

Realization struck. "Oh." For a genius Time Lord, he really could be a bit thick sometimes. But then again, he wasn't human. Sometimes, he didn't know how to cope with their onslaught of emotions, especially when those emotions were directed towards him.

"If you're just gonna keep me locked in this ship and push me around I want to go home," Annabelle said. It sounded more like a threat than a request.

He ignored it, his curiosity seizing on what she'd said earlier. "You can actually do that, though? Summon the devil?"

"With the power I'm supposed to possess, yes," she said grudgingly. "But why would I do that if Sam gave his life to put the devil away? Now I want to go home."

The Doctor studied her for a moment, then shrugged indifferently. "Okay then. S'not like I really wanted you around anyway," he said coldly, deliberately, knowing it would hurt her. Once upon a time he did, but he had been a different man then. He started to leave, then turned back. "By the way, did you ever find any of my personal possessions?" Amusement flickered in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly that she wasn't sure if she even saw it.

He ducked as Annabelle threw the nearest thing she could find at him before curling up tighter, resting her head on her knees. Before she could throw anything else at him, he left.

A mixture of frustration and pain from the comment about him not wanting her there anyway took Annabelle over. A silent sob racked her body before she could stop it.

The Doctor didn't see it. Even if he did, he wouldn't have cared.

He went back into the control room, set the coordinates for the Impala. Its energy signal was fairly easy to track, and they materialized not far from where the car was parked.

-oOo-

Annabelle had just pulled herself together when she felt the TARDIS land. She scrambled to her feet and ran out. Finding Sam and Dean sleeping in the car, she knocked rapidly on the window.

Dean was the first to wake and climb out of the car. Annabelle nearly knocked the both of them over when she tackled him with a hug, holding him tight and letting herself cry openly. Dean wrapped his arms around her and glared at the Doctor. "What'd he do to you?" he whispered in her ear. "I'll kill him, I swear."

The Doctor exited the TARDIS, shut the door behind him, and leaned against it, arms folded over his chest. "I didn't do much; certainly not what you're probably thinking, Dean. And if you are, get your mind out of the gutter."

"I was most certainly not thinking that!" Dean snapped. He tried to let go of Annabelle; she whimpered a little, and he hugged her again. "What the hell did you do?!" he demanded of the Time Lord.

"Since that information's keeping me alive," the Doctor drawled, "I'm hardly going to say, am I?"

Annabelle sniffled and let Dean go, wiping tears from her cheeks. "It's nothing, Dean. I'm fine," she said, trying to convince him as much as her.

"Obviously not!"

"I'll be okay. He's just . . . I don't want to be around him anymore."

"Alright," Dean said finally. "Wait in the car. Tell Sam what happened. I'll be right there."

She nodded and got in the car.

Dean turned angrily on the Doctor. "You stupid son of a bitch," he snarled. "Whatever you did to her we're gonna do ten times worse to you." He sneered. "I'm going to enjoy this." Without warning, the hunter punched the Doctor hard across the face.

His vision swam; then everything went black.