Dude, Bow Ties are Fugly
The brothers rushed in, pushing the doors closed behind them. Immediately Dean started laying salt down across the entrance.
"Erm, Dean?"
"What?" Dean asked, turning to see what Sam had found so interesting inside such a small box.
Not such a small box.
"What are you doing?" A rather crazy looking man stepped out from behind the strange console in the middle of the impossible room.
"I cleaned in here," he continued, moving towards the men and looking them up and down suspiciously, "admittedly about 400 years ago; tend to skip Springs as a whole – Summers and Winters are more my thing. But still! That doesn't give you the right to tip salt all over my floor."
As the stranger had been talking, Dean was reaching inside his leather jacket to pull out a small silver flask – the contents of which he splashed all over the occupant of the box.
"An impromptu bath! Lovely! Probably needed one."
Dean backed him into the console and pointed a gun in the man's face.
"What is it with Americans and firearms? I really don't see the constant need for guns." The stranger admitted, gulping.
"What kind of demon are you? What is this place?"
"I'm not a demon!" The man licked his lips, "Holy Water. Hmm," He licked them again, "Blessings of St. Catherine."
"How would you know that if you're not a demon?"
"Know? I'm the Doctor," he straightened his bow tie, "I know everything. I'm very clever like that. Super clever. Uber clever. Nothing get's past me. What is he drawing on the floor?"
"I thought you knew everything?"
"Having an off day."
Dean released him, "It's a Devil's Trap," He explained.
"Brilliant! First you break in, spill condiments and now you're vandalising the place!"
"Look man, we're just trying to save your life – and ours," Sam said, diplomatically, finishing on the floor.
"Saving lives? Saving lives is good. I'm all for saving lives, though I don't seem to be as good at it as I once was. People will insist on dying. Sometimes more than once."
"Dean," Sam called from where he was looking out of the little windows. Dean pulled away from where he was standing staring with confusion at the Doctor, and headed back over to Sam.
"What is it?" Dean asked, heading over to the door, gun still in hand.
"It's Castiel – he's checking over those bodies."
"Bodies?!" The Doctor interjected. The brothers ignored him.
"Dammit Cas! Why did you have to go get in touch with your feelings?" Dean cursed as tears started to fall down Castiel's cheeks.
"What's happening?" The Doctor interjected again.
"It's just a weeping Angel," Dean snapped, annoyed.
There was a thud behind them. Sam and Dean spun round, guns raised, to find the Doctor passed out on the floor.
"What the-"
Instantly a hologram of the man appeared next to his unconscious body.
"This is Emergency Protocol 617 – DON'T BLINK!"
Dean turned to Sam, "Was it something I said?"