Chapter 1

Intros

Iowa, January 17th, 2012

The motel was like every other one the Winchesters have seen, dark, stained, and covered with the most ridiculous wallpapers. After a while of the constant traveling they all seemed to merge together into one big crappy room, but they were used to it. As long as they were together, alive, and kicking ass nothing else mattered. That's what they told themselves anyway. After taking a small case in Iowa and exercising a pack of demons the brothers returned to their motel room for the night. This one almost got them. Dean almost died, again. They seem to always be almost dying, never have they actually ended up dead, and stayed dead. This was normal, cuts, burns, possession and broken bones, they have known this their entire life. They couldn't complain, they were saving peoples lives. That's what mattered.

Sleep, it was hard to come by these days. Dean slid off his leather jacket and boots and slid into the deep orange sheets that scratched and caught at his scars with a deep sigh. He didn't mind how hard the mattress was or the fact he was still covered in blood, all he wanted was to sleep. Maybe this time he won't have that nightmare again. Sam on the other hand, took the time to strip off his clothing and take a much needed shower to wash off all of the blood, demon blood. Now matter how long ago or how much it pained him, Sam still thought of it. The worst times of his life, when he was a monster. Why am I thinking of this? It was so long ago, so... so... Sam frowned and let out a sigh as he began to shower. Just another day on the job.

TARDIS

"Run, run, run, run, run!" the Doctor ran from behind the pillar to the big blue box that parked itself, quite conveniently, right in the middle of a Jadoon battle. His overcoat trailed behind him, flapping against his long legs as he sprinted to the doors. Rose, his companion, ran beside him, panting and bleeding from a deep wound on her shoulder. A Jadoon gun had been fired at her and if it weren't for the Doctor pushing her out of the way it would have got her right in the heart. I almost lost her, the Doctor thought, as tears stung his eyes. Just GO, stop thinking and run. The blue doors of the TARDIS were already open by the time they both reached them. He knew he shouldn't have left in the middle of a battle like this, a battle he caused, but Rose was hurt. Rose was more important than anything. "How are you? How much are you bleeding? I'm so sorry, so so sorry. Rose, are you okay? How could I have been so stupid! You-"
"Doctor!" Rose gasped, "Please, this hurts get me to the infirmary, now," her lips pouted and she crossed her arms only to grimace at the pain.

Silently, still wallowing in his own guilt, he led her into the infirmary, which the TARDIS helpfully made to be the first door in the hall. Rose knew the drill, this happens a lot to the both of them considering how much trouble they get themselves into. Traveling through time and space, saving planets, stopping evil plans, a few cuts and breaks is nothing. In record time the Doctor had her patched up and a cup of tea in her hand. "I almost lost you, Rose,"

"You ain't getting rid of me that easily, Doctor," she smiled playfully up at him as she shook her hands through his hair. "Where to now?" In that moment the Doctor saw again just how special Rose was, fierce, strong and never gave up. That's why you- he stopped his thoughts. He forced a smile up at Rose, his pink and yellow human. It pained him to feel this way, guilty of his own emotions, but how could he not feel like this? She was, well, perfect. The gaze he held was long, too long actually. The Doctor cleared his throat and started back for the controls.

"Where ever you would like,"

London, January 20th 2012

"Bored," Sherlock paced back and forth in his flat he shared with John, is partner? Colleague? Friend? Oh, whatever he was. "Bored, bored, bored, bored, BORED!" he turned to John, who was sitting on his chair staring at his cup of tea. "Has there, or has there not, been absolutely no cases for the last week? I'm going to, going to," dramatically he flung himself into his chair across from John and pulled out the gun from his pocket. John's eyes went wide.
"Sherlock, what are you going to do with that?" he set his cup down. Quickly Sherlock pulled the trigger and set three shots into the ceiling above them. "Sherlock you can't just go about shooting around the flat whenever you don't have a case,"

"Oh? I can't?" he again shot a bullet into the plaster above him sending dust into the black tuff of his hair. "Don't question me, John," he smiled. So did John. No matter how ridiculous or mad Sherlock may be, he could always make John smile.

The phone rang. John sat waiting for Sherlock to get it, the phone was never for John, always Sherlock. But he didn't get up, he sat still not even paying any attention to it. With a sigh John retrieved it.

"Hello?" John muttered.

"Sherlock?" the voice was unfamiliar, american, and shaking with fear.

"Hold on," John waved Sherlock over. He sprang up with a grin and jerked the phone from his hands.

"What is it?" he questioned, his voice filled with annoyance, as usual.

"Y-You need to help them, help all of us. I saw it, you were there, so was that a-alien, thing, whatever he was. You have to help the Winchesters, without you they're going to win," the man was trembling in his voice, fear oozed from his words. Despite that what he was actually saying made no sense, Sherlock was interested.

"Who will win?" he kept his voice calm.

"The demons, without you we're all going to die," Sherlock tried to smother his laughter. Demons? Ha! No such thing, even a fool would know this.

"Who are you?"

"Chuck, Chuck Shurley," he whispered.

This is the first fanfic I have posted so it's most likely shit. Review and Comment :D I'll try to post the next one in a few days.