Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction so don't judge to harshly, but constructive criticism is encouraged! I have this planned to be a two- or three-shot, but it might continue on. I really like the idea of nice Weeping Angels, but I couldn't find exactly what I was looking for, so I decided to write my own. This has not been beta-read or Brit-picked, but I think most of my grammar and such is OK, at the least. Hope you enjoy!

The Doctor was now regretting his decision to go left, instead of right. Right had defiantly not been the right way, as he'd hoped. His sonic screwdriver whirred as he held it out in front of him while he ran, scanning the general area. They were everywhere. The Weeping Angels. Dozens or more, he'd never seen this many in one place before. Well, other than the one time on Alfava Metraxis with the Byzantium, that was an ordeal. Clara was running right along with him, eyes wide open, not daring to blink, just in case an Angel blind-sided them. They ran and ran, down the aisles of the old warehouse, which shelves were packed and overflowing with everything from long-expired canned foods, to bicycles, to books that looked like they were as old as he was (which is completely impossible, but still, you get the point).
They slowed to a stop as they reached a dead-end in an aisle. One of those rock-climbing walls that you would find in a children's playground was completely blocking their path. The Angels were very close then, slowly and steadily making their way to the Doctor and his companion, nothing like the usual lightning-fast Angels he was used to. Sure, these were fast, but it was almost like they were hesitant. Like they were waiting for something. Or savoring the moment, he thought with a shudder. He pushed the thought away as soon as it came to mind, and then focused on not-blinking as Clara spoke, "Only one way out, yeah?"

"Yes," he answered, not breaking his gaze on the nearest Angel, "You start going up. I'll follow once you reach the top and can watch for me.

She seemed like she was going to argue, but then decided against it and began to climb, using the bright-colored hand- and foot-holds for leverage. The Angels crowded the aisle, there must have been a dozen or so, with more still in the surrounding area. He just hoped they couldn't climb.

"Doctor," Clara called down, "What are those lights?"

"What lights?" he questioned.

"Those, over – gah!" She exclaimed as she slipped from one of her foot holds, landing next to him with a sharp thud. He flinched, and she let out a muffled scream. She'd broken her ankle when she landed, and at best, it was a bad sprain. He fought to not tear his eyes away from the Angels, to check on her; but he remained calm as possible.

"Clara? Clara, listen to me. I can't look away from the Angels. I don't know how bad you're hurt, listen to me. Can you reach my hand?" He held out his left arm and stretched it in her general direction. He felt warm fingers around his own. "Good, now try to lift yourself up to lean on me." She did so, very slowly, very painstakingly, but she did. She now had her right arm wrapped around the Doctor's neck, almost all of her weight on him.

"Doctor?" She asked, looking over at him, then back at the Angels, "How are we getting out of this one?"

He shook his head, trying to think. He could even hear his own thoughts over the roar of that stupid car engine. Car engine?The Impala! The Winchesters are here!

"Is that who I think it – " She choked out.

"Yes! Yes, Clara! They're here!" He cried. While he hated his old friends' familiarities with weapons, guns in particular, they do put up one hell of a fight when need be. And right then was a 'need be' moment. The Impala was still across the warehouse, but with headlights on, allowing more light to see the Angels; which were about sixteen or seventeen in number. He could hear the brothers away off from the car, or directly in front of them, a few aisles down.

"Doc! You in here?" Shouted Dean.

"Yes! This way! There are Angels, and not the good kind! Don't blink!" The Doctor answered, "I have Clara with me, I think she's hurt, bad. Bring medical supplies!"

"On our way, we have someone that we think can help," yelled Sam, "But you have to trust them!" The Doctor wasn't quite sure what he meant by 'trust them' but before he had time to answer, the brother came into view, panting from their run. The stood at the end of the aisle, helping him and Clara watch the Angels.

"Where is your help?" He questioned when he didn't see a third party.

"She's coming. But, Doctor, you have to trust her. Okay?" Sam emphasized.

"Who is she?" he called, "What is she? She isn't one of your demon friends, is she? I really do not like them, too complicated for me." With four sets of eyes now, the Angels had all nearly quit moving, but with so many there, it was impossible to keep eyes on them all.

"Doctor, she's an Angel. Not our kind of angel, either. But listen, we trust her, she led us to you – "

"We just need you to blink, damnit! Enough time for her to get rid of the other Angels!" Dean cut Sam off, to quicken the conversation. They would explain everything later, when their lives weren't on the line.

"Are you mad?" He yelled back.

"You should know by now that we are both bat-shit crazy!" Dean retorted, with one of his 'I'm a smart-ass and I know it' grins.

The Doctor glared at the brothers. He knew he could trust them, hell, they've saved his life many times now, and he theirs. But he also knew they didn't always chose the best of friends. But this 'friendly' Angel was their only hope. The Doctor ordered everyone to blink on three, then they would open them after another three. Sam counted. He hoped this would work. They all slammed their eyes closed. Too late to turn back now. The Doctor felt the rush of air, then the cool touch of a hand. Clara shrieked. She'd felt it too.

They opened their eyes to find they were all outside, in warehouse's dirt parking lot, and in who-knows-what year. A cool autumn breeze brushed past them, rustling the colourful leaves in the surrounding trees. The Angel had apparently lied to the brothers and used them for a quick meal and a ride home.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled, kicking up dust in the empty parking lot. As he continued to 'cuss up a storm' the Doctor licked his finger, stuck it up in the air, twirled it around a bit, and then tasted it. He grinned.

"Ah-ha! Your friend did help us!" He exclaimed. Dean stopped his fit, and Sam turned around from where he was looking at something on the tin wall of the warehouse. "That friend of yours is absolutely brilliant! I had no clue they could control where they sent you, I've always thought it was just at random, but no! This is brilliant, this is absolutely fantastic!"

"What do you mean, 'control where they sent us'? Doctor, what's going on?" Asked Clara, who was still at his side, arm around his neck and left foot held up off of the ground.

"What I mean, Clara, is the Angel sent us out of harms way, only a few seconds into the past! She should be here –" He was interrupted by the slam of a metal door, and they all turned abruptly towards the sound.

Standing there in front of the side door, was a Weeping Angel. It looked just like any other Angel – only, different, somehow. She was wearing the usual chiton, with her wings tucked neatly behind her, but she looked uncomfortable in the long garment, and her wings looked like they weighed her down. She was looking at the ground, averting her eyes, with one hand hung loosely at her side, and the other tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Dean walked up to her and took a small notebook and a pen out of his jacket pocket, and slid them into her loose hand, balancing it just so between her fingers and thumb. He turned his head toward the Doctor and Clara, "This is how we had to do it earlier." They both nodded their heads in understanding, and Dean turned back toward the Angel, "Thanks for saving our asses. Thought you'd tricked us for a second there, though. So, umm, yeah. We'll turn away and you do your thing." Dean turned around completely and motioned for the others to do the same. They did. The sound of very fast pen-on-paper filled their ears for a split second, then the Doctor felt a light tap on his shoulder. Taking this as a sign he could turn around, he did so. Clara groaned at the sudden movement, and he apologized. The Angel was standing just a few feet behind him, with the notepad held up where he can see.

In slightly scrawled handwriting, it read, "We meet again, Doctor. Sorry about last time - 1969. I very much dislike my species' means of absorbing energy, although it is necessary every few years. I see you have changed your face. And your companion. I was a bit confused at first – but the time energy you give off, I would recognize that anywhere. Also, your friend needs medical attention. Her right tibia has a fracture, I took the liberty of examining it." Clara and the Doctor glanced at each other, and the brothers came closer to read as well.

"Right. Okay. Clara, we need to get you to my TARDIS. There's a med-bay inside. Is it safe to go in?" He asked the Angel. They all closed their eyes for a moment, waiting for her answer. A click of the pen signaled she was done, and they opened their eyes again. A simple 'yes' was written. They all turned and made their way inside, aside from the Angel, of course, as she was still quantum-locked at the moment. As they turned away, she followed quietly in pursuit, closing the door behind her.

After making their way to the other end of the warehouse, they found themselves in a sort of lobby area, where the workers would have once eaten their lunches. The TARDIS was parked in a corner. The Doctor snapped his fingers, and both doors opened, flooding the dimly-lit room with a colorful glow. The three humans and one Time Lord strode in. Headed toward one of the many halls. Sam paused and grinned, looking around.

"Never gets old," He said before continuing. While the Angel had never seen the inside of the TARDIS herself, she'd heard stories. Bigger on the inside, they'd said. It was hard to believe, but here she was, standing in front of it with all of it's glory. She reached out and stroked the wooden outside. It pulsed with time energy.

It took all of the Angel's will not to run in the machine and soak up all of that beautiful energy. It was like teasing a hungry dog with a sirloin – no – like teasing it with the whole cow. But, she waited patiently outside the doors, waiting to be invited in or shooed off. In her present hungry state, she actually hoped it was the latter option. She could barely control herself outside, it would be much, much worse inside.

When an Angel hadn't fed for as long as she had, they would begin to feel hollow. Like they were being chiseled away from the inside out. The longer you went like this, the slower you would become, and then you would eventually fade to dust. She'd only known of a few Angels that this had happened to, and they were the ones the Doctor had put into an eternal staring contest. But she didn't pity them. Every Angel knows not to mess with the Doctor or his companions unless you wanted to face his wrath.

The Doctor was a bit of a legend among her people, and she honestly had no idea why they had attacked him tonight. Maybe in their numbers, they thought they could take him on then have his TARDIS for fuel for the rest of eternity. Or maybe they were just stupid and fat, because by Angels standards, they were morbidly fat. That's how she was able to stop them so quickly. She just broke a mirror and placed the larger pieces in their hands that were held out in front of them. Easy.

She froze – quiet literally – as the Doctor came around the corner. Please don't invite me in, please don't invite me in, please don't –

"Well, are you coming in or not?" He asked, staring at her. She stared back, blankly. After what felt like minutes past, he finally turned around and exclaimed, "Oh! Right, yes, sorry." Still clutching the pen and notepad in her hand, she quickly wrote an explanation and signaled with a tap of her foot for him to turn around. He did, and she froze again. "Oh. Oh! I see. Yes. Okay. Well then, why don't we find you an energy source then, eh?" He dashed off to somewhere underneath the control room, and she became flesh-and-blood again. She sighed, again hating her species' biology. Wait, did he say an energy source? How is he going to give me an energy source? I know he's good, but he's not that good.

"Oh, and by the way," He yelled somewhere from deep within, various items being thrown up in the air as he dug through a large trunk, including a pair of red shoes, which she picked up and admired. They looked familiar, somehow. "You said it was you that sent me to 1969, but I should've let you and your friends in a forever-staring contest, right?" She quickly wrote down a reply as he came back up the stairs, carrying something small and round in his hand. She again turned to stone, the red shoes still in her free hand. "'There were five of us, not four.'" He read aloud her writing, "Ah, that makes since then." He walked over and traded the notepad for a small circular, … thingy, with what she presumed to be Gallifreyan written on both sides. "It's a tiny slice of the Time Vortex. It should get you through at least the next millennium, if not more. Not sure what I would have used it for. Not sure why I have it in the first place actually. But, you can use it now, if you'd like. An eye for an eye, eh? To work it just press that little circle there –" He motioned to a circle in the middle, "And boom! Energy to last for centuries! At least that's how I think it works…" He turned around and waited on her. She pressed the little button and the device began to emit a slight glow, while steadily fueling her supplies.

When it was over, she stepped hesitantly into the TARDIS. She grinned, dropped the shoes, and swiftly gave the Doctor a hug from behind. He staggered, off-balance, as he was not expecting that, then chuckled. "I suppose that's a 'thank you,' then?" She nodded her head against his back, still hugging him, listening to the sound of his double heartbeat drumming deep in his chest. "How about we do something about that quantum-lock thingy, eh?" She was about to let go and answer, when all of a sudden, she was stone, arms still squeezing the Doctor tight. Sam had walked into the control room.

"Oh! Umm, sorry," He closed his eyes, allowing her to move away from the Doctor, who was rubbing his ribs where stone had just been squeezing against him. Sam opened his eyes back. "Clara has just fell asleep. I just figured I would come and tell you. And, if you don't mind, could me and Dean stay here for a while? We don't exactly have a place at the moment."

"Of course! You can stay as long as you would like. Well, it depends on how long you want to stay, if it's rather long, then – "

"Okay, okay. I get it." Sam glanced over at the Angel, then turned and walked down the hall he came from.

"Right, we need to do something about that thing. I'm getting tired of it after twenty minutes, I can't believe how you've lived with it since the beginning of time." He ran down one of the halls and motioned for her to follow. She did, but not before letting out and exasperated sigh. If there was a way to fix quantum-locking, her people would have found it by now.

Then again, it's the Doctor she's following.

So, how'd you like it? I feel like it has a nice plot, but the characters aren't all in-character and Clara is just sort of… there. I mean, she contributed to the story when she got hurt, but that's basically all she's done. Same goes for the brothers, they're there, but not there, if you know what I mean. I'll try to do some of the next chapter from their POV, but I feel that may be too hard. Also, I'll try to include a bit more info on life as a Weeping Angel next time, and include some of her background. I didn't write her name into this chapter, but it'll be coming soon! Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Update: There was a computer error, so if a bunch of random text showed up that's why. Hope I have it all fixed now - PM me if you see something I missed!