Author's Notes: Well, guys, here we are again. Due to the enormous amount of support you guys have given me I now give you the first chapter of your sequel: Journey to the Center of the Doctor.
We do have to take care of some niceties though so bare with me:
All previous rules still stand: Rory never existed, I don't own any of the characters or the shows, etc.
Sherlock: Post Hounds of Baskerville
Doctor Who: Post Journey to the Center of the TARDIS
Supernatural: Post Freaks and Geeks
Don't forget to review my lovelies! First chapter isn't the best I've written but it get's better, I promise. Thanks again for your love and support!
"Dean, can you get that?" Sam shouted out to his brother. Sam began swiping the brush over his teeth again but the phone in the opposite room continued to ring. Sam spit into the sink, rolling his eyes, before leaving the bathroom. Dean was spread all over his bed and Sam made sure to push him off of it before he snatched up the cell phone.
"Hello?" He ignored Dean's protests and instead focused on the odd noises on the other end of the line. Dean stumbled wearily into the bathroom, beginning to strip in front of the door in preparation for his shower.
"Oh, hello dear!" An unfamiliar voice came over the phone and Sam's face scrunched up in confusion. "Need a little help so pack your bags we're coming to get you." A whirring noise could be heard in the background of the call. As Sam listened, he could hear another voice in the background, this one feminine. "No, Clara! I said the red switch!" There was more background noise accompanied by muffled shouting.
"Dude, who is that?" Dean wandered in curiously, dressed only in boxers with a towel in hand. Sam shrugged as he listened with interest to the conversation the mysterious others were having.
"Alright, now who am I talking to? I called Sam's phone and I'm assuming it's him because Dean can never pick up a phone." The man gibbered into the phone, and Sam stood in surprise. He had assumed this was a wrong number so how did this man know their names?
"This is Sam but who is this?" He exchanged looks with his brother who moved forward to listen to the conversation.
"Oh good! Hello Sam!"
"Uh, hi?" Sam glanced at Dean who looked as puzzled as he felt.
"Oi, Clara! Give that back! I need to get a landing point!" The two boys could hear the phone changing hands and suddenly a feminine voice began to drift over the line.
"Sammy, boy. Remember me?"
"Uhhhh..." Sam had no idea what to say to that but it didn't matter because the girl kept on talking.
"Well, the Doctor says we're going back to when they wore chain mail so I was wondering if you could strap some of that on and be my knight in shining armor?" Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam, a smirk starting to cover his entire face. Sam tried to convey the words 'shut up' to his brother through a facial expression but Dean poked his tongue through his teeth in his characteristic 'pervy smile'.
"Uh, the thing is I don't actually know who's calling." Sam admitted to the girl.
"Doctor! Sam says he doesn't know who I am!" The girl shouted in the background. There was more passing of the phone until the man's voice rang out in Sam's ear again.
"Hello, me again. Could you read me the date?" The boys exchanged looks before Dean flipped open his own cell. He held it up so his brother could see, both wondering what this phone call was all about. Sam read off the date to the man on the other end who immediately said. "Oops. To early. Dean's princess isn't with you, is she?"
Dean yanked the phone out of his brother's hand and held it to his ear. "My what?" He demanded.
"Oh, Dean. Good to hear from you but I've got to go. We're drifting towards the 1820's. Tell Sam that Clara intends to collect on that drink. Oh, and for goodness sake, don't-" The phone call cut out with a buzz and Dean lowered the phone slowly, staring at it.
"What was that about?" Sam asked him.
Deans shrugged. "No idea." He tossed his brother the phone and began to cross the room back to the bathroom.
"Uh, Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"You left the curtains open again." Dean's gaze flickered over to the clear window. Standing outside of it was a girl with disheveled hair and a mouth hanging open, staring at the mostly naked man on the other side. Dean winked at her and she gave a start before running in another direction. Dean giggled even as he caught sight of his brother's face.
"What?" He threw the rest of his clothes onto the bathroom floor before turning the handle on the shower. Sam gave brief snort before beginning to cough. Knowing what was coming, he grabbed a tissue and held it to his face. He looked down into it to see flecks of blood spattering the white surface. Before Dean could notice, he shoved it back into his pocket.
What Dean didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
"Hey." Dean caught the burger Sam threw him as he walked into the motel room. "Find anything?"
"Yeah. Here are the pictures." As he plopped down in the seat across from his brother he slid his phone across the table. Dean scooped it up and began to scroll through the pictures. "Local folk say that the building is haunted and everyone's been too scared of it to go near it." Sam opened up his salad and began picking at it with a fork.
"Hold on, what's this?" Dean showed him one of the pictures.
"It's a telephone box. They used it back in the 1900's in Britain." Sam poked a bit of salad into his mouth, unsurprised to find that the lettuce tasted a little old.
"But why's it painted on a house?" Dean resumed scrolling as Sam shrugged. Just as Dean lifted the burger to his mouth, he froze. Sam looked from the burger to him in confusion before Dean turned the phone so that he could see. In the picture were tall letters that read out 'ESCAPED FROM THE ANGELS. COME AND GET ME. 22/7/1940'.
"Sound like our kind of thing to you?" Dean wondered
"Yeah, but we'll need to call Cas in on this one." Dean put his burger down before tiredly rubbing his hands over his face. "Dean, we've got to find out who this person is. There's no record of it anywhere that I can find but if the angels were after them that long ago, we could be onto something here."
"Fine. Do what you want. Call Cas. He won't answer. He's taken the tablet and he's gone. He's not coming back for us or the hunt or-"
"Hello Dean." A voice greeted. Dean jumped to his feet so quickly that he sent his chair flying.
"Cas? What the hell? Where have you been?" He demanded, dropping his burger back onto the table.
"That doesn't matter. I'm here to take you back to where you need to go." There was something different about Cas, Sam noticed. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but something was wrong.
"Why are you helping us all of a sudden? Last time we saw you, you took the tablet and made a break for it. How do we know this isn't some sort of trick?" Dean crossed his arms and glared at the angel whom he had trusted until so recently.
"Dean, you have to trust me." Castiel's fingers went out, touching two to each forehead of the boys. There was a rustle of wings in their mind as they suddenly found themselves blinking out in the sunlight. They were outside of the building the two hunters had been keen to investigate. This time, however, the graffiti was fresh, no more than a couple of hours old.
"Whoever did this has got to be inside." Dean observed, running a finger along the edge of the 'L' in 'ANGELS'. Sam moved past his brother and jiggled the knob of the door. Dean quickly took a defensive position behind his brother as the door swung open. The creaking echoed through the house, still old despite the shift in time periods.
"Thought you'd never get here." A female voice rang through the house. "Took your time, didn't you, raggedy man?" The back of a ginger head appeared in the doorway, dragging a suitcase. "I thought for a while that you weren't-" She froze as she turned and saw the three strange men. "-coming." She finished slowly. She lowered the suitcase slowly, watching them sharply.
"You put up the graffiti, right?" Sam asked her, seeing how frightened she was and trying to ask gently. "Why are angels after you?"
The girl's eyes darted between them, clearly confused by what she was seeing. When she came to Dean she paused. Her eyes darted all over his body, her expression strained, as though trying to remember him from somewhere. Dean could only stare back, confused. Why was this girl making sad eyes at him? He thought he should have remembered such a striking figure...
"Who are you?" She asked cautiously, moving so that her back was to the wall. She kept all three men in her sight, counting the exits out of the corner of her eye.
"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean." Sam gestured towards Dean who was still watching her, noting her cornered animal behavior. "This is Castiel." Sam continued. "He's an angel but it's okay. He's nice."
"He's nice?" Dean spoke up for the first time, amused by his brother's choice of words. Sam shrugged as though to say he couldn't think of anything else.
"An angel, you mean like a weeping angel?" The woman squinted at Cas who seemed to be growing impatient with the entire conversation.
"We don't have time for this." The angel interrupted, moving between the boys and the woman. He extended two fingers towards her forehead and she instinctively backed away.
"You stay the hell away from me." She warned. Dean grabbed Cas's arm to restrain him.
"Dude, we can't just take her to the future with us. Isn't there some rule about time and events being unable to be changed?" Dean remembered, unsure what Cas was thinking by bringing this woman fifty years or so into the future.
"Dean, she's from your time. Well, technically she left a year ago but she belongs there. We don't have time to argue. I must return." Cas insisted, losing patience with humans and their slow up taking.
"Alright, you say you're from our time, prove it." Dean opened his arms wide, as though offering the woman a chance to analyze him.
The woman bit her lip as she thought. She certainly didn't trust these men but they said they were from her time. The clothing style certainly supported that theory as did the mobile hanging out of the tallest man's pocket...
"That's a mobile phone. In the future everyone has one. It's not magic or a walkie-talkie. There are satellites in orbit that put out signals to towers which then go to our mobiles. See? Future girl." She winked at Sam who glanced down to see his phone corner jutting out from his pocket. He looked up at her and grinned. Dean, feeling slightly uncomfortable, coughed to let them know there were still two other people in the room.
"That clears that up. Feel free to take us home, Cas." Dean invited. Cas extended his fingers to the forehead of the ginger and she vanished. Withing moments, the angel had returned the two boys to their own time and their own crappy motel room. The woman was looking around the room in surprise. She jumped when she saw that the men had joined her but said nothing about it.
"So, you're an angel, yeah?" She marched straight up to Cas and poked him in the stomach. "If you're not a weeping angel, what are you then? Because weeping angels have the ability to transport people back in time but not forwards. Some kind of alien, are you? What planet are you from?" The woman stopped circling him and planted herself in front of him, arms crossed.
"I must return. You will be safe in the hands of the Winchesters." Without another word, the angel disappeared, leaving the woman behind, blinking at where he had vanished.
"Alright, any where we can drop you?" Dean asked, grabbing his bag. "I mean, anywhere besides England?" He threw his bag over his shoulder with a hand before looking at her. Damn, she was striking. The way the daylight played off of her hair made her look like some sort of fire princess. Huh. Princess.
"Scotland. Actually." Sam said quietly, almost as a side comment.
"What?" Dean turned, acting slightly indignant that his brother had to interrupt the moment with some snide comment.
"Her accent is Scottish, actually. Not English." Sam mumbled quietly, looking down at his bag, feeling awkward.
"No, he's right. I grew up in England. Little town called Leadworth." Her eyes grew momentarily foggy with memories before she shook them out of her head. "Amelia Pond." She stuck out a polished hand which Dean shook slowly.
"Nice name." Dean grinned over at his brother who made a face.
"What?" Amy asked, picking up on some missing subtext.
"Nothing." Dean dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Anyways, anywhere we can- Woah. Something wrong?"
"No. Why? Something wrong with you?" She leaned back against his bed, arms folded as she looked up into his chiseled face. It was his eyes that really caught her attention. They were the greenest green she had ever seen. They drew her in and held her there.
"I was just asking since you're crying." Dean noted the crystal gems rolling down her cheeks. He pointed a finger at them and her hand flew up to feel them.
"You're crying too." She told him, looking up at the tear caught in his stubble. His hand came up much more slowly, pulling away his calloused fingers and noting the wetness. "What's wrong? Disappointed you didn't get to see more of 1940? I've been there long enough, trust me. It's no picnic." She rolled her eyes at the memories.
"Huh." He looked down at his fingers. Light glittered off the wet surface and he couldn't think of why he would be crying. But he felt almost happy. Happy and guilty. What the hell was wrong with him? Why were the two of them crying? They had only just met, right? Why would they simultaneously start crying if they had no connection?