"America. Never wanted to land here. No offence of course…" The Doctor mindlessly chatted while looking enthusiastically out the window. Dean sighed and peered in the rear view mirror, studying this strange man further. He seemed to have a permanent, excited look on his face. His clothes were clean and neat, except for the pocket that the Doctor stuffed the handkerchief into. Dean wasn't quite sure why the man was here, but he wasn't quite sure he wanted to ask either. The Doctor, or so he wanted to be called, was (in a summary), odd. An English-accented man in the middle of nowhere, standing next to a blue police box that hasn't been used in fifty years in Britain, talking of outer space. It was times like this Dean wished he hadn't listened to Sam. But at least if something went wrong, he could blame it on him. Dean relished in that.
"Oh how rude of me, I forgot to ask. What are your names?" The Doctor moved quickly, placing either hand on the sides of the chairs and peering over the seats. Sam was startled at his abrupt enthusiasm. The Doctor didn't quite seem to get the concept of personal space, which reminded Dean of his angel Castiel.
"I'm Sam, this is Dean. We're brothers." Sam flashed the Doctor a quick smile and looked ahead onto the road. The Doctor nodded his head. He gazed back out the window at the vast plains of crops around them. Yellowed grass spotted the field, and a rickety fence stood unstable on the sides of the road. On the horizon mountains laced the border, and a bright blue sky lay above that. The nature unfolded before him like an oil paint canvas. This was why the ancient Timelord favoured Earth. It was so open and picturesque out here. Perhaps he was secretly content to be in America.
"And what do you gents do? Why are you out here?" The Doctor's curiousness beginning to irritate Dean. Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearing his throat.
"We're doing a job…" Dean's thick American accent echoed in the Doctors ears, reminding him of an old friend. Dean smiled as he remembered what Sam had said earlier, to scare the odd man off by telling him the truth. "We're hunting a supernatural monster."
Sam quickly peered over his shoulder to watch the Doctor's reactions. Every person who they told what they actually do reacted differently. Some laughed it off, some didn't believe them. And some even told them (far too often) to "Stay the hell away from me!". But the Doctor's reaction was the weirdest one yet.
"Supernatural? Brilliant! Count me in! What are we going after? An alien? Is it a weeping angel? I hate weeping angels. Too many goodbyes. But you're humans that hunt aliens… you don't work for Torchwood do you…" and with that pulled out his sonic screwdriver, propped up on his seat and began to scan out the back window. A confused and worried look grew across Dean's face. The Doctor did love to talk. He often rambled on a bit, too.
"What the heck are you doing to my baby? What is that thing?" Dean cried over the seat at the Doctor. Once realizing he said baby, he quickly corrected himself. "…Car."
Sam tried to reach over the seat at the Doctor who just put the screwdriver away in his pocket and cleared his throat.
"It's a screwdriver. A sonic one. Trying to pick up alien signals." The Doctor corrected his bow tie. Sam chuckled, a screwdriver?
"Dean maybe this guy is weirder than us, and that's pretty weird." Sam sniggered.
"Weird? I love weird. Weird is good." The Doctor smiled readily and patted Sam on the shoulder.
"So are you from England?" Sam questioned, trying to take his mind off the fact that this guy wasn't completely freaked about the supernatural conversation.
"No, but it's interesting they sound like me. I came first." The Doctor looked quite content with himself and leaned back in his seat, stretching his long limbs. Dean was right, his eyes did appear old. The Doctor was so full of knowledge after travelling around the universe for nearly a thousand years. His eyes also showed, courage, love, and plenty of loss.
"So where are we going? What are we hunting? Hopefully not hunting to kill, maybe reason with it and share a cup of tea and a jammie dodger." He smiled widely as Sam's eyebrows furrowed. Maybe taking this guy along for a hunt could turn out to be interesting.
"Look Doc, we don't want to risk your life so we're dropping you off at the next gas station." Dean rolled his eyes at the Doctor, whose eagerness was a bit off-putting. The Doctor laughed musically.
"Risk my life? Dear friends, don't worry about my life! And not Doc, I don't like Doc. The Doctor will do nicely. I've seen a lot of things, and I can be quite useful. Just let me come along, I won't get in the way."
Sam shrugged and nudged Dean, who was really questioning whether he should let this nut job come for a ride or not.
"We don't let people hunt with us. But fine, we'll take you to our friend Cas. He'll know whether you're a demon or not." Dean grunted. The peculiar man in the back grinned, satisfied with himself and sprawled across the back seat, playing with his screwdriver.
"Can we stop for ice cream?" His sprightly voice called from the back.
The next stop Dean was going to make was Durango, where they were meeting the culturally oblivious and slightly awkward angel Castiel. Dean may regret bringing the Doctor along, but he didn't want to miss Castiel and the Doctor meeting. He turned up the radio and they drove into the night to the classic rock softly playing through the speakers.
