The TARDIS floated aimlessly in space, just outside the Scorpion Nebula. Rose and the Doctor had plans to visit Earth, the year 1979, and were both busy getting dressed and prepared for a day out. That was, until, the TARDIS's phone rang. Now, no one EVER called the Doctor directly, so both him and Rose knew something was up. They both began running at the same time, from opposite sides of the TARDIS, towards the console room. They reached the console at the same time and stared at one another before racing to the phone. The Doctor had the unfair advantage of extremely long legs so he reached the phone first but Rose hadn't come without her own advantage, she turned on her vibrating toothbrush and jammed the Doctor in the side with it, making him jump away from her and the phone. Rose stuck her tongue out at the Doctor and answered the ringing device.

"Hello! Intergalactic Hero, Rose Tyler, speaking! How may I help you?"

Rose said, placing a hand on her hip in a haughty way as she did so. The Doctor reached for her and the phone but she swatted his hands away and marched to the other side of the room, stretching the coiled cord out as far as it would go. The sound of metal racks rattling, echoed throughout the TARDIS.

"Rose Tyler? I know I have the right number, in order to speak to the Doctor that is. Based on that, your disgustingly chipper attitude, what I know of the Doctor's history, and the fact that you answered the phone, I am to believe that you are the Doctor's newest pet."

A man's voice protected through the phone speaker. The voice was deep and crass, it carried a heavy accent very similar to Rose' s own. He spat the word "pet" and had a very harsh tone. Rose was so surprised by the man's rudeness, that she was at a loss of words, and her face must've shown it, because the Doctor looked at her in question and she saw concern in his eyes.

"Oh joy."

The voice protected again, this time oozing sarcasm.

"This one can't even speak! Now, if you would be so kind as to the give the blasted phone to a person with enough intelligence to respond, I would appreciate it greatly. As I do not have the time to explain my problems to a brick wall!"

The man all but shouted and his tone grew fiercer with every word. Rose was getting angry and began to yell at the person on the other side of the phone.

"NOW YOU LISTEN HERE! I don't know who you are but I swear when I find you I'm gonna-!"

Rose hadn't noticed the Doctor slowly sneaking up on her before it was too late and he had already ripped the phone from her hand. He quickly placed it to his ear and kept Rose at bay with the length of his other arm.

"Hello? Who are you and how do you have this number?"

The Doctor asked calmly but also warily. Rose had moved to the trailing that circled the metal floor in the console room and was leaning on it with her arms crossed over her chest. She strained to hear the conversation going on before her. There was a silence, after the Doctor spoke, so long that when the deep voice protruded through the speaker again both Rose and the Doctor gave a slight jump.

"Doctor, it's me. It's Sherlock."

The Doctor nearly dropped the phone and the look of shock on his face was raw. He spoke slowly and leaned back against the TARDIS console running a hand though his hair, as this regeneration often did when he was nervous. Rose stepped closer with her arms still folded in front of her chest and her head cocked to the side, confusion written all over her face.

"That can't be..."

"I swear. Please don't hang up!"

The man's voice cracked in desperation, but the Sherlock the Doctor knew would never let his emotions get the best of him in this way. It was impossible any way, Sherlock was dead. The Doctor had watched helplessly, alongside John Watson, as Sherlock jumped. He could do nothing because, for him, this was the past. Sherlock' s death was a fixed point.

"I WAS AT YOUR FUNERAL! I watched them bury you! You cannot be alive! Now whoever you are, this isn't funny!"

The Doctor went from shocked to livid in a matter of seconds, he stomped around the console towards the phones hook and just as he was about to slam the phone down on the receiver, the voice shouted.

"MAY 12TH 2010! WE HAD BREAKFAST AT SPEEDY' S CAFE!"

The Doctor stopped the phone and jerked it back up to his ear, disbelief and hope masked his face.

"What?"

His voice was quiet and low.

"I ordered a black coffee and you had the banana milkshake. It was eight in the morning and the waitress thought you were mad, but you drank three of them anyway."

The Doctor stood mouth agape and grasping the edge of the TARDIS console tightly, like it was the only thing in the world keeping him from fainting. The man spoke again sounding even more desperate than before.

"You helped me save Irene. You helped me and John get into the Baskerville base after hours. For God sake Doctor, you helped me quit smoking!"

The Doctor closed his mouth and regained his composure, but he didn't smile. He spoke in a flat monotone voice, it was so cold it sent chills up Rose' s spine.

"What do you need?"

A shaky sigh could be heard on the other end.

"Thank you. It's John, Doctor. There is something seriously wrong with him and for the first time in my life, I don't know what to do."

The Doctor sprung into action, running to his monitor. He asked questions and typed. Using his shoulder to keep the phone pressed to his ear, both his hands occupied the keyboard in front of him, his fingers flew from letter to letter as he typed up symptoms and began searching for a diagnosis. Rose only stood idle and watched in amazement, for she only heard one half of the conversation.

"His eyes are what color?"

The Doctor typed.

"Oh my.."

The Doctor typed.

"I see."

The Doctor typed.

"You've got him tied up, where?!"

The Doctor stopped typing and stood up straight again, running a hand though his hair as he looked at the results on the screen in front of him. This was not good. And certainly not something he could handle on his own. As The Doctor spoke he pulled a small phone book out of a compartment underneath the monitor. He flipped through the pages, searching for the only people he knew that could possibly help.

"Sherlock, listen to me. Put a line of salt on the outside of the closet door. Do not listen to anything John says to you. Don't let him out. Don't even open the door. I have to get reinforcements, this isn't something I can handle on my own. I will be there as soon as I can."

The Doctor hung up the phone and, just as fast as he put it down, he had it back next to his ear again. He gained at the book and punched in numbers on the phone keypad. The phone rang three times and the Doctor began to look to frustrated, then someone finally picked up the other end.

"Hello?"

The voice asked. His voice was even deeper than the last.

"Castiel? It's the Doctor. I need Sam and Dean. I need all the help I can get."

MEANWHILE

Sam and Dean ran down the long dark corridor, shooting recklessly at what was behind them as they fled. The beast growled in frustration as one of Sam's bullets sank home, but that only angered the creature even more. Sam stopped for a second and turned to look at the animal to see if he had slowed it down. Dean shouted something and grabbed Sam by the wrist, pulling him and making him turn then stumble sloppily back into a sprint alongside his brother. Finally they reached the room at the end of the tunnel. They flung themselves into the room and slammed the door behind them. Dean held his body against the door, pushing with all his might to keep it shut as the Werewolf scratched and threw its body at the door. Sam searched the room for something to push in front of the door and seemed satisfied when he found an old computer desk. He slid it in front of the door, it wouldn't last long but it could buy them enough time to dig the silver bullets out of Dean's bag.

"Jesus! I thought Cas said this thing was a demon?!"

Dean shouted as he dug around in his bag searching for the only thing that gave them a chance at leaving this room alive. Sam sat on the computer desk, pushing it up again the door trying to make the barrier last long enough for Dean to find the bullets. They were both sweating and panting. As Dean sorted through his duffle bag, the first hinge popped off the top of the door and the scratching outside grew more frantic and harder to hold back.

"We don't have time to worry about Cas! Hurry the hell up Dean!"

Sam yelled and screamed in frustration as he used all of his strength to hold the door closed. Dean swore and gave up sorting the bag, dumping it out onto the floor. He picked up the clip of silver bullets from a pile of knives, salt, guns, and holy water. He shakily loaded the gun, almost dropping the clip in the process.

"Move, Sammy!"

Sam ducked out of the way and rolled to the left far corner of the small concrete room. With one hit from the werewolf on the other side, the computer desk flew to the right as the door opened inward. The beast looked at Dean and prepared to pounce but Dean was too quick and he pulled the trigger. The werewolf stumbled backwards and fell dead on the floor as a silver bullet sunk into it's chest.

Dean rose his gun to his mouth and blew on the top of it, like something out an old western movie. He looked at Sam with a cocky smile as he lowered the gun and slid it into the back of his jeans. Sam looked back at him, at a loss for words, but let a small smile spread over his face and extended his arm for Dean to help him up. As Sam dusted himself off he reached in his pocket for his cell phone.

"Now, we can give Cas hell."

He held the phone up to his ear while he and Dean began to make their way back down the hall and out of the abandoned factory. The phone only rang once before Cas picked up. Sam put him on speaker so Dean could hear.

"What the hell, Cas?! You said there were demonic omens in this area! That thing back there wasn't a demon! Can you imagine what the hell went through our minds when it just waltzed out of the devils trap like it was a circle in the mud? Or how about when we tried to hide and it licked up the salt line?! We could've died! It was a fucking werewolf! I swear when we get back I'm gonna take your wings and-!"

"SAM! Stop talking and listen for a minute!"

The gravelly voice erupted from the phone speaker and the Angel who usually kept his calm and didn't express his emotions sounded desperate and worried. Sam stopped walking and talking as did Dean. They exchanged worried looks and this time Dean spoke.

"Whats going on Cas?"

Dean spoke in a demanding tone but also with concern in his voice. He had always held a soft spot for the Angel who pulled him from hell. Castiel loved Dean and wether or not Dean wanted to admit it, he loved Cas too.

"Dean. Sam."

The rough voice projected again, this time sounding a bit more sure. Cas took a breath and spoke.

"It's the Doctor. He called. He needs you."

Sam dropped the phone and took off down the concrete corridor, Dean following him.