"I keep telling you man, if you don't get off that computer every now and then your eyeballs are gonna fall out." Dean called across into the next room. "And then where would we be?"
"Oh yeah? Well I'll just come in front of the TV with you, that's so much better." Came the response.
It was a lazy day for the Winchester brothers, (if it could be called that). Sam was typing away at his laptop trying to pinpoint some electrical disturbances that had been popping up nearby, and Dean was flipping through channels in the next room of the base. They hadn't had a real hunt in a while, and both of them were starting to get a bit edgy.
"At least it's more than a foot away from my face." Dean muttered. They didn't say much more for a couple of minutes, and finally Dean settled on some crappy Disney Channel movie to pass the time.
All was normal, until a rather loud and obnoxious noise started echoing throughout the house. Dean muted his show and spun his head around in confusion, casting his ears for the source.
"Dude, turn that down." Sam called out. "I'm working."
"That's not the TV, Sammy." Dean jumped up from the couch and tried to pinpoint where the warping and wooshing sound was coming from. Sam lifted his eyes from the computer, and was frozen in his chair, his mind unable to believe his eyes at what was materializing in front of him.
"Dean." He chirped. But the elder Winchester had already seen it.
"What the FUCK is THAT?" Dean yelled out.
A big, blue box had materialized in the middle of their house. On the top, written in big glowing letters were the words "POLICE BOX" and on the door was a little notice that said "FREE FOR THE USE OF PUBLIC."
Sam acted quickly. He darted to a nearby drawer and pulled out a pistol and a salt-loaded rifle. In one fluid movement between brothers, Sam tossed the pistol and some Devils Trap bullets into Dean's waiting hand, and they took their positions in front of the Police Box.
"Hey!" Dean called out. "Who's in there?"
The door pulled open, and out walked a small child. Dean automatically lowered his weapon a bit, but Sam's stayed steady. The boy can't have been more than nine or ten years old. He had dark brown hair that stuck up, and a square jaw that looked strong for his age. He wouldn't meet either brother's eyes, and had the look of a kid who had been caught grabbing a cookie from the jar.
They didn't have time to react however, because he was followed out by someone else. The "someone else" was a tall, thin man about Dean's height. He wore a vertical striped brown suit, and an dark brown Castiel–styled overcoat. He came out with his hands up in a sort of mock surrender, only he hardly seemed to notice the guns in the Winchester's hands.
Dean opened his mouth to speak, but the man had already begun rambling in his fast british accent.
"I know, I know, you don't have to say anything." He said, running his fingers through his wavy hair, his eyes locked with Dean's. "But in my defense, he snuck on my ship when I wasn't looking and he was only lost in King Henry's court for a LITTLE while. His hair is a bit singed, but honestly, you should just be glad it isn't WORSE. At least I got him back in one piece."
The man paused for a bit, put his hands on his hips, and leaned back to look at the boy. The kid cast a sheepish smirk at the weird british guy, but still avoided eye contact with the Winchesters.
Sam lowered his rifle and cast a glance at his brother. Dean met his gaze with an equally confused look, and placed his gun on the nearby table. Sam followed suit.
He turned back to the man and his box. Again, Dean tried to speak, but again, he was cut off by Mister-Brown-Suit-Guy.
"Look, before you say anything, you have to see it from my side here." The man had a very genuine look of distress on his face, but Sam and Dean were still frozen with confusion. "I mean, he blackmailed me! What was I supposed to do? You haven't been a very good influence on him since I last stopped by. And please–" He held up his hands in a beggar's position in front of Dean. "For the love of all that is good please do NOT tell your husband. He is MEAN when he does the protective Daddy thing."
There was another pause. The man and the kid both seemed to be offering themselves up for Dean's judgement. Dean, of course, had no clue what was happening. After a good few seconds, he finally spoke.
"What?" Dean eloquently said. "Who are you?"
"That kid has hair just like you did when you were younger." Sam commented. Dean cast him a look.
"What are you talking about?"
"Yeah. You used to wear your hair like that when we were kids. Cept yours was a little lighter."
Brown Suit Man stared at them both before speaking. "Well, yeah." He said in a very matter-of-fact tone. "So anyway, you aren't telling Castiel, right?"
Dean replied, "What are you gabbering about? What's Cas got to do with anything?"
"Actually Dean," said Sam. "That kid looks a lot like you. But his eyes are...blue."
There was a silence. Dean turned back to the man, and looked down at the kid. The kid cast frightened glances between Dean and the Brown Suit Man, whose eyes both widened in obvious fear.
Dean started to gasp out a word, but Brown Suit Man's nervous laugh got in the way.
"Ha! ha...wrong year. My mistake." He grabbed the child's shoulder and started to walk backwards into the box. "Come on Bobby, let's see if we can catch them before the next apocalypse."
The pair stepped back into the Police Box, and with another collection of wooshes, it was gone as quickly as it had come.
Dean turned to Sam. Sam turned to Dean. Sam was about to speak when Dean announced he was gonna go get a beer, and he disappeared into his room for a while.
They never spoke of the incident again.
Another tumblr inspired oneshot, this time with Superwho! I changed a few things around, namely the Doctor. The original post used Eleven, but I write better with Ten so I used him instead. Sorry to diehard Eleven fans, but the point remains the same. For the original post go here: artactually d0t tumblr d0t com /post/56644557032/tardis-noise-in-a-motel-room