Seeing Charlie Bradbury and helping her army fight for her continued reign as Queen of Moondoor was a welcome break from what Sam and Dean had been dealing with as of late. But the battle was over and the brothers were, as always, back on the road. This time they were speeding up I-95 through North Carolina, planning to investigate what the papers lead them to believe was a routine Werewolf stalking the back-country of Maryland. There had been no reported human deaths yet, but plenty of livestock mutilation, destroyed chicken coops, blah blah blah.
There was still some tension in the Impala, strumming quiet bass notes underneath the warped sounds of John Winchester's cassette collection. Usually it was Sam's reluctant duty to insist on talking it out, but this time around there just wasn't much to say. While it was a much different relationship than the one he was still mourning with Amelia, Sam was certain that cutting ties from Benny must've really been hard on Dean. Having no real memory of his time in Lucifer's cage, something like a year in Purgatory was something beyond Sam's ability to imagine. There would be other times to check in on Dean's emotional state. For now it seemed best to just let him take it out on a nameless furbag. Sam leaned back against the headrest and allowed the dark forest rushing by outside his window to become a blur. His eyes closed, and in the second that they did, he saw a tiny flash of white light. The kind of white light that people who have near death experiences tell you that they see. He kept his eyes closed - knowing it was just a trick of his mind - but something about that little fleck of light seemed like it had something to say.
Dean stopped the car.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked. Dean was looking intently through the rear window. "Dean?"
"You didn't see that?"
"See what?"
"That flash."
"I was resting my eyes. I thought I saw something but-"
"It was brighter than sunlight, off in the trees. It lit up the whole inside of the car." Dean's face, a face that had pretty much seen everything, was suddenly so intent. "It looked like a really big, bright camera flash."
"So...lightning?"
"No, not like lightning. It didn't come out of the sky."
"Well you know, lightning doesn't actually come out of the-"
"Shut up, Sam." Dean was already opening the door.
"Where are you going?"
"I wanna go check that out!" Sam cursed his brother under his breath, then grabbed the maglite out of the glove compartment and followed Dean into the woods.
The forest wasn't very dense, but it was close to three in the morning and they weren't too far outside of Fayetteville, which meant enough city pollution to block out most moonlight. The ground sloped down at an odd angle and pretty much everything about this situation spelled "broken ankle". The flashlight helped a little, but its beam didn't have very much spread.
"Hello?" Dean called. The word echoed dully back at him. "Anybody there?" No reply. Sam humored Dean for about five more minutes of wandering and tripping on branches before he insisted that they go back to their car.
It was a bit of a climb, but the boys reached the Impala without any problem. As they approached the lone black car, Dean started to run.
"HEY!" He shouted as he ran. A figure that Sam hadn't noticed quickly leapt a few paces back, into the middle of the road. Two hands rose in the air in a maneuver that looked like it had been very deeply conditioned. There was a little more light out on the interstate than in the forest, but the person was easily detectable as female. Her face, however, was shadowed by a mess of curly hair. All you could make out was the gleam of her eyes as she looked upon Sam and Dean. Then a smile appeared.
"Hello boys," her voice was low and inviting, but in a decidedly Big Bad Wolf sort of way.
"Um, hi," Sam tried to keep his voice steady but he was a little nervous. This couldn't just be a woman; they'd been driving on this same road for hours. It had no turns, no exits, not for miles, and they most certainly hadn't seen anyone wandering the interstate on foot. So where did she come from?
"What were you doing to my baby?" Dean asked. He did a lap around the car, his eyes roaming over every inch of its exterior before coming back around and walking right through this woman's assumed personal bubble.
"Oh, this is yours? I was just trying to see if anyone was inside." As she spoke more than two words, it became evident that she wasn't American.
"Okay well yeah, it's mine." Dean took a breath to calm himself, since the Impala was no longer in danger. "What're you doing out here by yourself?"
"Me? Waiting for someone to come by, of course. I could really use a ride."
"Where are you headed?" Sam asked. This was fishy on at least three levels. The woman shrugged.
"At this point? The nearest motel. I think I've walked six miles at least. I'm exhausted."
"No, no, no we've been driving this way for a lot more than six miles and we didn't see anything."
"Didn't see anyone", Sam corrected his brother. Dean's head whipped around, realizing where Sam was headed.
"Wait a sec, was that you flashing about a hundred yards back?"
"I beg your pardon?" she shot back.
"No, no. We uh, we saw something weird off in the woods and I thought maybe it was you."
"Oh. I thought you'd just popped into the trees to have a wee." She was being very cavalier for a pretty woman on the road in the middle of the night with two strange men. There was nothing in her that gave off any fear. "Anyway, mind if I ride along? Like I said, six miles, exhausted."
"I don't see why not," Dean shrugged, looking at Sam. "What's your name?"
"Of course, how rude of me. I'm Professor River Song."
"Professor?" Sam asked.
"Yes. Does that surprise you?"
"Considering you're British and hitchhiking through North Carolina in the dead of night? Yeah, it surprises me a little bit."
"Well, I'm one of those forward-thinking types of teachers, I suppose."
"Okay then Professor, hop in. We'll give you a lift."
"Thank you."
Almost as soon as she sat down in the backseat, Professor River Song was asleep. Sam took this time to investigate her a little closer. She was older, probably in her mid-forties, but certainly not unattractive. She was very pretty, in fact. She was wearing more make-up than most middle-aged women Sam had ever met, but she maintained a very natural air. Her clothes looked like they belonged on the field at a cross-genre Moondoor jaunt. Knee-high leather boots, something that looked like Batman's utility belt...and a holster resting against her hip.
"Dean," Sam whispered.
"What?"
"She's got a gun." Dean pulled up the false bottom in the car's center console.
"Oh no, a gun!" He whispered in feigned fear while brandishing his own nine millimeter pistol.
"Can it, Dean. Are you not noticing what's wrong with this picture? Look at how she's dressed. She just showed up in the middle of nowhere-"
"Yeah, and she's not our problem anymore. Wake her up." Sam looked out the window just in time to see a sign pass by. MOTEL: 3 MILES. AIR CONDITIONING. HBO. HEATED POOL. Sam reached back and nudged Professor River Song's thigh but she didn't budge.
"Hey, Professor Song?" He nudged her leg again. "Hey!" He put some more force into it, and before he knew what was happening, he was yelping out in pain and Dean was slamming on the breaks. "Jesus Christ!" Sam withdrew his arm back into the passenger seat, rotating his wrist and wiggling his fingers.
"I'm sorry," Professor Song winced. "You startled me."
"Jeeze lady, you startled me!" Dean resumed driving.
"I think you dislocated my thumb." Sam spat.
"Yeah...I'm pretty good at that. I'm really sorry." It didn't take much for Sam to get his thumb back into place (with a very loud and sickening "pop!"), but he was just about fed up with the professor.
"There's a motel just a few miles up. Figured you'd want to come out of dreamland and get yourself together."
"Thank you, boys, for the ride."
"Don't mention it," Sam muttered, still massaging his hand.
"And I...haven't been entirely truthful with you. That was me. The flash in the woods."
"Wait, what?" Dean swerved slightly because he couldn't stop himself from turning to look at Professor River Song.
"Why would you lie?" Sam asked. Red light of the motel's neon sign was filling the car.
"I needed to go somewhere we could talk. I didn't really land when and where I expected to, so I had to improvise a bit."
"Well then start talking, Professor." There was nothing to be done. No threat that Dean could impose upon her. They had already fulfilled her request and brought her to a motel. He parked right outside the managers office and turned around to face his passenger. He left the car running.
"Of course. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. But first, I do have to ask you a question."
"What's that?"
"You two are Sam and Dean Winchester, correct?"
After River's startling question, the brothers needed a break. They and River both booked rooms, and then she came over to their room to talk.
"How do you know who we are?" Dean jumped right in on her.
"I'm a hunter myself, of sorts."
"What do you mean 'of sorts', Professor?"
"Please, call me River, Dean."
"Okay so you're not a professor," Sam inferred.
"Of course I am! I teach Archeology."
"Okay so you're a professor...and a hunter...of sorts." River sighed and unbuckled her clunky wristband, setting it on the coffee table. She rested her elbows on her knees and took a moment to massage her skull, right above her eyebrows.
"How much do you boys know about time travel?"
"That it's not possible. Unless you're a god."
"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Or unless you're from the future...where they made it possible."
"Dean-" Sam sometimes needed to bring his brother's wild imagination back to Earth.
"Well, yes and no." River put her wristband back on. "What time is it?" Dean looked at his watch.
"A little after five."
"No, what time is it."
"Five-oh-seven." Dean replied. River was fiddling with the leather strap on her wrist, like she was pushing buttons. But there were no buttons to be seen.
"Alright. I'll see you in two minutes then."
"Wha-"
But River was already gone. A blast of light just like the one from the woods (but much, much brighter) knocked Dean off of his feet, and made the mattress underneath Sam shudder. It was only light, but it somehow had force.
"Where did she go?!" Sam shouted. Was it a diversion? River had been seated close to the door. Sam ran to open it, to see if she'd used the light as a distraction so she could run, but found that it was dead bolted, and the chain was on.
"Holy shit, she's a time traveler!" Dean went into a full on geek meltdown. "Wait, I told her it was five-oh-seven, but that was like 20 seconds before five-oh-eight."
"So?"
"So did she mean two minutes as in a hundred and twenty seconds or did she mean five-oh-nine? Does her...her wrist thingy! Does it know?"
"Well we'll know in a minute, won't we?"
"Or we'll know in...72 seconds."
"Do we really want to wait though? Maybe we should go."
"Why would we go, Sam? We just discovered time travel!"
"First of all, no we didn't. Second of all, every time some stranger knows our name it usually means trouble."
"If she turns out to be a problem it's not like she can take both of us."
"Dean, what if she isn't human?"
"What, like an alien? Aliens don't exist, Sam-JESUS!" Light blasted through the room once more as the clock struck 5:09am. The boys blinked the spots out of their eyes, and there was River sitting right where she was not two full minutes before.
"Hah! Five-oh-nine! Ho-ly SHIT that's awesome!"
"Where did you go?" Sam asked.
"I didn't go anywhere," said River, clutching her chest. "Pardon me, vortex manipulation gives me gastric nightmares." She unleashed a roaring belch. Dean's eyebrows skyrocketed.
"A time traveling chick I can burp with. Marry me?"
"Sorry sweetie, I'm spoken for." River winked at Dean and finished catching her breath.
"Um, what do you mean you didn't go anywhere? You were here, then you disappeared, then you reappeared."
"I skipped ahead on your timeline. I didn't 'disappear'. I just moved two minutes ahead. Listen, I don't really have time to get into the wibbly-wobbly quantum mechanics of time travel with you. You've got comic books for that. I came to find you boys because I'm looking for an angel, and it's kind of time sensitive."
River's words took all of the excitement out of the small, musty room. Sam and Dean looked at each other.
"How do you know about angels?" Dean asked. River rolled her eyes.
"You're going to have to accept 'because I'm from the future' as an answer to most of your questions."
"So what happens in the future?" Sam could tell that Dean wanted answers. The very mention of angels by a stranger was putting a worried strain in the older brother's tone. "What changes that suddenly people are aware of angels?"
"Everything changes. Not because of angels, but because of one specific angel. That's why I'm here. My husband, he..." River bit her lip and her voice trailed off. She searched for words. "He's a hunter as well. But a hunter who travels throughout time and space, and answers the distress calls of beings all across the Universe. Aliens are, to humans, a supernatural occurrence, and would be destroyed if they were a threat, yes?" Sam and Dean both nodded. "So humans landing on a...a Silurian planet or a Macra planet would be considered alien...and if they were a threat, the planet's natives would call The Doctor."
"The Doctor?"
"That's what they call him, my husband. Because he helps people."
"What does any of this have to do with angels?" Sam asked.
"An angel, and the angel pulling his strings. And the angel pulling hers. The angel I'm looking for has a good heart and he has no idea what chaos he is about to bring about. But I think, if you help me find him, I can stop it from ever coming true."
"Okay what do you mean chaos?" Dean interjected. "In case you missed this chapter in your ancient history book, a bunch of angels kick-started the biblical apocalypse a few years back. Where were you and your Doctor-Husband then?"
"There was no great need for us. You boys obviously had it under control." River smiled reassuringly, yet matter-of-fact-ly at Dean and Sam. Dean couldn't help but laugh and shake his head, muttering "under control" under his breath.
"So what, we had that under control but can't handle a few angels who aren't hell-bent on destroying the world in an epic centuries battle of heaven and hellfire? What makes them so special now?"
"I'm so sorry, Dean," said River. "But I'm afraid the events I'm trying to prevent have already been set in motion, and right under your noses. It's not your fault; they angels have dominion over time as well as the ability to prevent you from realizing that someone you're speaking to directly isn't there at all."
"Wait, River, you're not talking about Cas, are you?" Sam asked the question that he knew was trying to kick its way through Dean's teeth.
"Castiel? Yes, I'm afraid so. He's being used by an angel in the newly established Garrison. Her name is Naomi. Do you know her?" Both boys shook their heads. "That's good. If she hasn't reveled herself to you yet then it's still early on in her plan. She hasn't made Castiel do any real damage yet."
"Real damage?" Dean had long since given up standing over River in her chair. He was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, his back was hunched-over and facing towards the empty room. It was an uncommon position to see Dean in: one that made him vulnerable. Most of the time Dean sat with his back against the wall, or within two steps of the nearest exit. It was all out of instinct. You couldn't sneak up on Dean Winchester. He never sat this way - like a child at River's feet but thoughtfully rubbing the stubble on his cheeks - blind to any number of potential hidden predators and at the mercy of anyone more than three feet tall. "What do you mean real damage?"
"I'm sorry, Dean. I truly am. Castiel killed an angel. The one you and he went to rescue."
"I know that, River. Samandriel, he was gone. He attacked Cas. He didn't kill Samandriel, he protected himself." River was shaking her head.
"No sweetie, he didn't. Samandriel broke under the demon Crowley's torture and revealed the truth about a Word of God tabled for angels. Naomi made Castiel kill him because Samandriel betrayed Heaven's secrets. Crowley has everything he needs now to bring the angels and probably Heaven itself crashing down to Earth." She fell silent, letting the boys absorb the information bomb she had just dropped. Sam couldn't be sure, but it looked as if Dean had begun to shake.
"Cas wouldn't do that to Samandriel."
"No, no I don't think he would, sweetie. But it's not him. It's Naomi."
"But why is he listening to her? Heaven's been a clusterfuck ever since the war ended and God flew the coop. Nobody has any power over him."
"There is a new garrison rising in Heaven. A garrison who are unsatisfied with the scenery and sick of allowing people to be spun through the magical, soul-perfecting, rock-tumbler that is mortal existence."
"You stole that from Chuck Palahniuk." whispered Sam.
"I like the analogy," snapped River. "Even if reincarnation is a load of hot slime. Which, by the way, it is."
"Don't worry, we know." Sam managed to crack a smile.
"Okay what do we do?" Dean didn't realize he had shouted until Sam and River both jumped. "How do we make sure this doesn't go any further?"
"Well, if I have you both on board, we wait. I've sent a message out to my husband but he can be difficult to track down sometimes. For now, just keep tabs on Castiel and if anyone else dies who you think shouldn't have, don't let it go."
"But then what?" Dean spat. "Fine, great, hubby's here. Do we kill Cas? Do we go to heaven and kill Naomi?"
"I don't know, Dean."
"The hell you don't!" Just like that, Dean was back on his feet. "What the hell happened to "I'm from the future"? You've already seen this. You know how it ends. Tell us what we have to do!"
"I can't, Dean." There was real pain in River's voice. Every sound out of her mouth dripped with the most sincere apologies and regret. "I have to be a non-essential piece of this puzzle. If I tell you how to defeat Naomi and save your friend-" Dean's eyes dropped to the floor. "I will set the events into motion: the events I'll someday read about you combating in a dusty old book. It'll create a paradox, and frankly, I'm not sure how many more of those this poor Universe can take." River looked around the room, like she could actually see the warped and patchworked time-space continuum all around her.
"Why didn't your husband come with you?"
"He's been to every corner of the Universe. He's seen the beginning of it and the end. All of these distant worlds he's seen and saved, and never a glimpse into heaven or hell? Eleven hundred years of searching and seeing the things he has seen...I wouldn't believe in God or The Devil either. But when Samandriel was calling out to Naomi, begging her for help, his frequencies were so strong that they registered on the Doctor's machine's. When he hears things like "Angel" and "Miracle" in Earth terms, at this point he thinks they're talking about him. But The Doctor is a stubborn, childish man sometimes, and he doesn't see what's right in front of his nose. So many galaxies to memorize and keep tabs on, these blips are small on his radar. He ignored the call, but I went straight to the library to see what I could dig up. I found horrible things, boys. And that's why I'm here."
"What kind of horrible things, River?"
"Another question I can't answer. Spoilers."
The trio sat in silence for a few minutes, almost as if no one wanted to speak first. Had waiting for this so-called Doctor already begun?
"Eleven hundred years?" Sam finally asked. "Your husband is eleven hundred years old?"
"Younger now than when I last saw him. You see, we don't always travel together. We don't always meet in the right order."
"So he's not human."
"No," River smiled. "He's so, so much more."
"And you?"
"Oh, I'm a-hundred-percent human. And I have been ever since that mess in 1938." Dean raised an eyebrow at River, and then exchanged looks with his brother. River continued without offering an explanation. "That's why I'm here, Sam. Dean, this planet and it's people matter to me. And I've read wondrous things about you two and what you did so many times to save it. When the human race finally reduces this Earth to dust and people sprinkle themselves out across the sky, their minds will open up to capacities you can't even fathom. And that's when your stories will be told, boys: when this world is ready to understand what you've done for it." Something like a smile flitted across Dean's face. The thought that no matter what he did from here on out, he was immortal. Someday, he'd be the comic book superhero of some outer-space kid.
"Alright. We're in." Dean said, finally. "We're gonna wait for this Doctor and we're gonna save Cas." River beamed at him. "But there's one thing that's eating at me, River."
"What's that, Dean?"
"Doctor Who?"