Mercy, Nevada
Sam ran his fingertips over the dusty spines of long-forgotten books, searching... He looked up for a moment, taking in the brilliant rays of sunlight shining through the lone window and into the tired, gloomy library. The single fan in the ceiling, gently whirring, and the ticking of an old grandfather clock quietly pierced the silence. He turned back to the shelf, and found himself looking right at the book he was searching for. A gold-leaf, leather bound tome that seemed to shine brilliantly despite the decades of dust layered on it. He knew this was it; that odd, almost alien, circular script couldn't be mistaken. He pulled out his dad's journal and double checked; the same symbol was right there on one of the old pages of the book, carefully drawn in by his father's steady hand. Sam pulled the tome out and laid it onto the desk; pulling up a creaky chair, he opened it, careful not to tear the ancient pages.
The citizens of the town cautiously peered out their windows at the black as death Impala driving through their sleepy town. There weren't many visitors in Mercy. Dean peered back, occasionally making faces at the townsfolk when he got bored. He slowly pulled up in front of the sheriff's office. The roaring engine of the Impala came to a halt. Dean walked up the steps to the sheriffs office, old steps that seemed right on the verge of breaking beneath his boots. Mercy was not a modern town; it was more like a slice of an old western that had been carefully stitched into reality. Dean knocked, and a surly looking sheriff with deep set, gaunt eyes opened the door to greet him. He introduced himself as Jack, and invited Dean in. The office looked the same as every other building in the town; creaky wooden floors, sunbeams shining in through murky windows, dust floating sleepily through the air...
Despite the tight-knit community and fearful townsfolk, the place seemed inviting. Dean felt genuinely safe for once, safe from evil, safe from danger, safe from fear... like something was there, protecting the town; if Sam and Dean were right, there really was. Legend told of a gunslinger, a guardian angel, a being that was once a man, but had somehow become the eternal sentinel of the small town. There was something in the legend that had piqued Sam's interest though, a brief mention of a clever stranger with no name, a man who seemed centuries wiser than what he looked, who vanished without a trace after the day was saved. He said something about the same character popping up all over recorded history; a Van Gogh painting, a play by Shakespeare, a World War II newspaper, even a stone tablet from Pompeii. Sam said that he could find answers here, so they had set out in the Impala. That was a week ago...
"So, what brings you boys to our quiet little town?"
Dean snapped out of his daydreaming. "We're just passing through. We did have some questions though, about your town."
"Of course son, how can I help ya'll?"
"What do you know about The Gunslinger? The legend of the, uh... angel that protects this town. Sam says its been around since this town was founded. My brother... he's a giant nerd, but he's usually right when it comes to books."
The Sheriff was silent for a second. He sat forward and leaned closer to Dean, "Let me tell you son, The Gunslinger ain't just a legend. The Gunslinger is as real as you or me. You want proof? Go outside right now and watch. Tell me if you see anyone who's afraid, anyone who looks like they're hiding some dark secret, anyone who looks like they're running... I can save you the time, you wont. The Gunslinger protects these people from harm, i'm just here to deal with the little things, noise complaints, scuffles, the like. I haven't seen him myself... but the stories are there. Flashes of light in the desert, shady figures standin' out there like it ain't no one's business, and every once in a blue moon... there's a man. A young fella', always well dressed and wearin' a bowtie, that checks in on the town from time to time... like he's been here before, like he has a past with this place and The Gunslinger." The sheriff paused and leaned back into his red leather chair. "So, I've answered your question. Now, if you don't mind... why exactly do you want to know all of this?"
"Me and my brother, we're history students from the Univ-"
"Oh don't gimme that bullshit son. You two couldn't pass for students if you actually tried. Listen, whatever you're gonna do, I'm not gonna stop you. You pair don't seem like trouble, I can see it in yer eyes... and even if ya are, the Gunslinger will take care of ya. So really, who are ya'll?" The sheriff was a handsome man, but age had definitely taken its toll, especially on his eyes. They looked old, tired; the subtle wrinkles creeping in at the corners gave him away. His once-blue eyes had turned grey long ago...
Dean leaned in this time, lowering his voice. "We're just trying to help people. We protect the innocent from... things. Its hard to explain, and I couldn't tell you everything anyways. But we're not here to hurt anyone, or hunt down this legend. Actually... we're looking for help."
Somewhere between The Eye Of God and the Crab Nebula
The Doctor was alone. He didn't know where to go since he had lost Rory and Amy, he'd been traveling around time and space, always trying to keep busy. He always had an excuse, but really, he was looking for someone; someone to talk to, someone to brag to, he couldn't stand loneliness, silence. Every time there was a pause, every time it was quiet, everything came flooding back...
As the Lonely God sat and sipped some hot tea, he looked out the open door of the TARDIS at the massive blue giant sprawling before him. "Never quite gets old..." he said to no one in particular. The curve of the star stretched out into the black void, glowing a serene blue as massive tendrils of plasma exploded out from the surface. Suddenly, a single bell sounded. He stood and threw the empty cup into the star, shutting the door behind him. He rushed over to the console and checked the display screen. It showed two men sitting in a parked, black, car. The Doctor manipulated the controls and zoomed out. The rest of Mercy came into view.
The Doctor stood still for a second, remembering. A thousand years of people and places, not exactly the easiest to recall. For the life of him, The Doctor couldn't remember where he knew the car and the two men from, but he decided to pay Mercy a visit. He'd been checking in every couple of decades... he loved seeing the townsfolk living in serenity, seeing the gunslinger out there in the desert, keeping everyone safe. It reminded him that, sometimes... things did turn out well. The time vortex slowly faded and the TARDIS landed on something with a crash.
The Doctor felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun on his heel and came face to face with a handsome 20-something boy, who was about an inch away from slugging the Doctor in the face. "Oops... " The Doctor said almost gleefully. The boy had a mix of confusion, surprise, awe, and anger on his face. The Doctor quickly stepped outside and found the TARDIS parked on top of a the remains of an old table in the middle of a library. He stepped back inside. "That wasn't your table, was it?"
Mercy, Nevada
Dean parked the Impala outside the old library Sam had been searching in. He walked in and found a blue police box sitting on top of a broken table; the door of the box slightly ajar. Dean was quiet for a moment...
"What the fuck?"
He pulled out his sawed-off and approached the police box. As he walked towards the thing, he saw the door open up and his brother stagger out. A look of shock and confusion was all over his face. Dean gently put his hand on his brother's back to stop him.
"Woah Sammy, whats wrong? What the hell is that thing?"
"Its uh... its bigger on the inside."
"It's what?"
"Bigger. On the inside. Its just..."
Sam was silent for a minute. Then he turned to Dean and looked him in the eye.
"Dean, I... I think I know what this thing is... "
There was a pause, Dean struggled to process exactly what was going on.
"Well, what is it? How could you know?"
"Its the uh... the guy with the box"
"Oh yeah Sammy, that really narrows it down"
Sam dropped his shock for a second.
"The guy dad left notes about in the book, remember? Those weird circular runes that we couldn't translate. I think we finally found him."
Suddenly, a voice came from behind the brothers. "Yep, ya found me! Or rather, I found you... sorta. Honestly I think there's a couple thousand ways this could have gone more smoothly." The man was wearing a brown wool jacket, khakis, and a bowtie. He was leaning playfully against the side of the box. Dean suddenly recognized him from the legend the sheriff had told him.
Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder and pushed him out of the way, stepping towards the box and the odd man. "Who are you?" he asked, still holding the shotgun cautiously.
The Doctor looked knowingly at Sam.
"Dean... I think he's... The Doctor."
"Who?"
"He's the one. The one that's shown up in all those stories. Shakespeare, Van Gogh, World War II, Pompeii, all throughout history. He's... a Time Lord."
"Sam... he looks like he's 30."
The Doctor looked up and yelled, "Oi! Who are you calling a thirty year-old!"
Dean looked around the room and again noticed what was once a table sitting under the box. He remembered Sam stumbling out of the box... his brain put two and two together and got... nothing. "How did that thing get in here? And what the hell is it?" he asked.
The Doctor was silent for a second. "Well Dean-y boy... Its a TARDIS. That's Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Yes, its bigger on the inside. Yes, it can travel through time and space... And yes, I am the Doctor. Sam, your father left you a note, right?"
Sam suddenly looked up with purpose, "Yeah, how did you-?"
"I knew him. He was a good man, I'll have you know... You should be proud to be his son."
Sam briefly flashed a smile, and looked down again, thinking. Dean was still just staring incredulously at the Doctor, slowly piecing everything together. The Doctor suddenly broke the silence.
"You could come with me, ya know."
Dean and Sam both looked up at him together. Dean was the first to speak.
"And do what? We can't leave behind everything... and how do we even know we can trust you? For all we know you could be a demon!"
The Doctor simply shrugged and turned around. "All of time and space..." he said as he gestured at the TARDIS. He walked back into the box, again, leaving the door slightly ajar...
Dean and Sam turned to each other. This time Sam spoke first.
"Dean, I don't think he's a bad guy. He's exactly like the one from the legends. He's the mysterious stranger.. What he said... that the box, the TARDIS, can travel through time... it would explain everything, how he appears all over history. And he knows dad, somehow. Think about what this means... We could go back to that day... we could-"
"No Sam. I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it. There's no way screwing with time like that is safe."
"Dean... we could see mom."
They were silent for a second, Sam looked at the floor in deep thought.
"Dean, you're right, you know. I'm sure he wouldn't let us change anything to begin with... But maybe at least we could meet her, see her before she..." his voice trailed off weakly.
"Yeah... we could."
Dean thought for a moment, then nodded. "Go get our crap from the Impala."
A smile lit up Sam's face and he rushed off. Dean turned to face the box. He walked towards it and swung the door open. As he stepped in, his mind struggled to comprehend exactly how it even existed. He knew Sam had said it was bigger inside but... it was just impossible. Dean stared around at the walls for a moment, and then simply shrugged in acceptance.
"Seen weirder shit before."
Then he looked at the platform in the center. He saw the Doctor leaning against the console, looking closely at something in his hand, shoulders slumped, an empty expression on his face. He looked at the Doctor closely... and, for a brief moment, he saw through the mask. Suddenly he saw the weight of a thousands burning worlds and a million lost souls resting on his shoulders. He saw the Doctor's true face, a vacant gaze that was truly ancient and lonely. He saw all the pity and hate and remorse. He wasn't looking at what was in his hand anymore, he was looking through it, into eternity and into nothing at all. He saw it in his eyes... centuries of sorrow and loss. His eyes were old, and tired... so tired... he looked like he was ready to give up.
Dean knew the feeling.
The Doctor blinked and looked up at Dean. His expression instantly changed. A brilliant smile shone on the Doctor's face as he realized Dean was actually in the TARDIS. He yelled "Catch!" and threw something. Dean caught it and looked down at his hand. It was an apple, a smiley face gently carved into the front.
"What's this...?" Dean said quietly.
The Doctor looked down and back at Dean. "A memory." he said, his voice trembling slightly. He looked down, regaining his composure. He looked at Dean again, "Where's good ol' Sammy boy?"
"He's getting our stuff from the car, hope there's room in here."
"Oh trust me, there is." the Doctor said with a gleeful smile.