As I sat in the same dingy little hut close to the slowly ebbing fire, chewing lukewarm pizza covered in too much cheese, I thought about life. It was never what you expected. You could have your ducks in a row, i's dotted and t's crossed and there would always be more, be something different. Something that would alter your perception of nearly everything.
This was that day. I had watched and wondered and made stories of souls in the world for years while my own existence left no mark deeper than my small apartment. Yet here I sat in the company of an alien Time Lord, two brothers who had seen and done only God knows what, preparing to hunt something I hadn't even seen before.
I wasn't scared anymore. And that scared me a little bit.
"C'mon, Cas! I'm not kidding. Wing it down here man!" Dean paced, shouting at nothing.
Oh, right, there were angels too.
Suddenly a man in a light brown trench coat appeared out of thin air standing near Dean and looking serenely around the room like this was nothing unusual; until his eyes settled on the Doctor. Huge orbs of blue appeared as the shock and reverence dawned on Castiel's face.
"Time Lord. How… When…" the questions stumbled and stopped coming out of the angels mouth as he slowly stepped toward the slender man. The Doctor smiled slowly. Castiel's eyes continued to flick between the Time Lord and Dean.
"I take it you have heard of these Time Lords, then?" Dean asked, still looking doubtful.
"There is an old story in heaven. A convoy of Time Lords came so long ago. They watched as my father shaped this reality and the things contained within the dimensions. Then the cosmos burned and it took everything he had to protect what he could. When the fire ended, he wept. When asked why, he said a sacrifice was made to end what should have never begun. He never spoke of it again and no Time Lord was every seen again," Castiel spoke slowly and reverently as he stepped closer to this man.
"And there never will be again. The last and only," the Doctor stated sadly. You could see the tears well up in Cas's eyes as he looked into the sad face
"I am so so sorry," he added in his deep staccato voice. We all sat there in silence understanding and connecting to different pieces of that short tale. After what seemed like an age, the Doctor broke our reveries.
"Well, Castiel, or as Dean called you, Cas. I am so glad you could join us. We have some work to do. Seems that a corporeum has leaked, or been pulled, through the void into this time, attaching to something. It is terrified and weak. I don't know if we can save it but I intend to try."
I could practically hear the hairs flare on the brother's necks.
"Save it? How can you possibly want to save it? It is chasing this poor girl for no reason and if it is, like you said, from another space and time then it needs to not be as soon as we can make that happen," Dean said staring at the Doctor with a half turned head.
"It didn't choose to be here. It could have been sucked in through or ended up here on accident and it is trying to get home. It isn't chasing Joce - it has attached to something about her that is similar to something it was locked onto in its own time and place," he stated imploringly. The mention of my name snapped me closer to the surface of reality, reminding me of a few questions I had.
"Doctor? How do you know my name?" I asked softly staring straight at his face. I could understand his knowledge of the brothers - they seem to have a pretty notorious history. But I was unremarkable, unimportant.
"Jocelyn Arimetto. Daughter of Simon and Clarice Arimetto. Born in Boston, Massachusetts. Your story hasn't started yet but trust me, you will be fantastic!" He finished with a smile that lit up the room. And kindled a curiosity in me. My story was just beginning? I was a 32 year old cubicle worker living in Delaware. My parents had died 6 years ago and I had no other family. No skills beyond my imagination. Nothing. I was nothing. I would have told him he had the wrong person if he hadn't just prattled off my life history.
Castiel smiled a soft smile as he looked at me. My face flushed and I stared down at my now bare hands, suddenly very interested in my cuticles. I could barely maintain conversations with the lady at the grocery store checkout let alone comprehend an ancient, undying alien and Angel of Heaven looking at me like I was something special. Thankfully Sam seemed to sense my unease.
"But you said we had a job?" he asked, looking at the Doctor.
"Quite right," he popped, breaking his gaze from me and looking with authority around the room. "We are not hunting the corporeum but something is." He didn't elaborate but stared seriously around the cluster of people.
"And…" Dean prodded.
"That's all I know," and the serious stare broke as his body language changed to a more casual stance. "I realized a few days ago I wasn't the only things trailing the creature but I can't seem to pinpoint what is."
"So we know something is hunting this but we don't have any clue as to what?" Sam reiterated.
"Whatever it is, it has to be fairly powerful to avoid any identification on my end. But I can guarantee that they are after the corporeum. Its soul is out of place in time - makes it more powerful than the average soul. Nearly unlimited source of power. I am sure you can see the appeal," the Doctor spoke softly at the end. Sam's face constricted as if he had a visual that went very well with this idea and curiously Cas looked slowly at his shoes. Dean was rubbing his temples as if trying to block out the room.
"I need a drink," he grumbled. And the Doctor laughed a true and clear laugh that lightened my soul despite the impending and crushing darkness. Dean smiled and I could see an ease settle between them.
"So we need to get that corporeum out of here before whatever is hunting it catches it," Castiel pressed.
"Seems so, just one problem, we have no idea how to summon it. It just kind of pops up," Sam explained. The Doctor and Cas looked at me simultaneously.
"Me? What has this got to do with me?"
"It has attached to you. There is something about you that reminds the corporeum of home. They dwell in wild forests. Does that mean anything to you?" asked the Doctor.
And suddenly I felt it like white hot fire. About 11 years ago I had gotten my first and last tattoo. It was up the side of my calf; a bare old oak tree with intricate etchings in the bark. The etchings were from an art piece I loved and had had the artist add to the trunk. I reached down to my boots and pulled off my left one. I rolled up the edge of my jeans to my knees so the ink was clearly visible.
"That makes sense," the Doctor mumbled as he swooped closer to me to study the design. "Where did you see those symbols?" he asked looking directly into my eyes.
"A painting from India by an artist about 80 years ago. They were markings on a scroll laying on a table and I have always thought they were beautiful…" I rubbed my thumb carefully over the delicate swirls and slashes of the markings. They brought me an unexplainable peace and purpose.
"Quiet beautiful. Seems we aren't the first to have met a corporeum. Those markings are symbols from a language spoken by few. It originated in the forest of the corporeum. I am not as fluent in it as I used to be but I believe it talks about light, about a beacon of light that bridges the void. I've never heard of such a thing…" As he turned away, his brows furrowed with concern. It wasn't reassuring to think an undying Time Lord was stumped.
"Well sitting here isn't doing anyone any good. We need to get somewhere safe to hash this out. It is about a day and a half to the bunker but that is the safest place I can think of, especially since we have no clue what is hunting us," Dean said looking seriously from one face to another, finishing with his eyes on mine.
"Quite right! Except for the day and a half piece. I can get us there much quicker," the Doctor said pacing toward the front door. Both Sam and Dean instinctively flinched backwards, which caused the Doctor's eyes to glitter in a mischievous way. "Oh not like that, I have a much smoother ride," he smiled from ear to ear.
"I'm not just leaving Baby out front," Dean snapped shaking his head.
"No need, there's plenty of room. What's say you all go wait in the car and I will come pick you up?" Before anyone could respond he dashed from the room heading who knows where. We sat there for a moment or so before awkwardly shuffling into the Impala. I settled into the backseat next to Castiel. He seemed to still be processing his interactions with the Time Lord. After a moment or so he turned to look at me and smiled. His smile was so genuine and kind that all I could do was stare at his face. After a moment Sam cleared his throat, "So we just wait and…" Before Sam could finish his thought a loud grinding, whirring sound surrounded the car. Both boys jerked their heads around looking for the source of the sound. Cas's smile got bigger, if that was even possible.
As the sound died down, a room had materialized around the Impala. There was a tall glowing center console in a larger organically shaped room.. The room was built of metal and glass and light. Circular ports covered the external wall and far to the left was a simple wooden door. We all slowly opened the doors and stepped into the room of sound and light.
"Welcome to the TARDIS!" The Doctor popped up behind the center console and grinned warmly as he welcomed us to what I assumed is his ship. I wondered about that blue box…
"Where was this parked?" Sam asked, spinning his head around to take in the sights and sounds of the space ship.
Castiel slowly walked over to the plain wooden door and softly pushed it open. Through the gap you could see the run down house we had just walked away from, which meant the ship we were in was parked just where the Impala had been. I shuffled over to the opening to poke my head out and glance at the ship.
Grace abounding, I tripped over the entry port of the TARDIS and fell on my backside in the middle of the gravel and weed strewn driveway. As I sat, I stared up at a dirty blue police box that looked like it landed out of the 1950's. Without bothering to stand up, I edged around the side of the box and continued around it on my hands and knees. As I approached the front door I looked inside and saw Castiel, Dean, Sam and the Doctor standing around the Impala inside this police box.
"It's smaller outside…" I said looking past the side of the box again. The Doctor chuckled to himself as the brothers scurried over to check out the ship. They walked around it multiple times before reboarding the ship shaking their heads in disbelief. I sat on the edge of the door, staring back and forth between the inside and outside trying to understand how this was even possible.
A few hours later I was sitting in a large library that smelled like wood oil and loved books sipping on a strong cup of coffee with a heavy helping of cream. The Doctor had pulled some more levers and that metal, wood and who knows what else box had flown halfway across the country and landed in an underground bunker. The brothers said it belonged to this group called the Men of Letters, of which they were Legacies. They seemed decently disturbed that the Doctor just flew in and parked the TARDIS neatly behind the kitchen. He just smirked as he strolled through the halls and rooms of the bunker.
Each of the men went his own way; consumed in their thoughts. The Doctor was exploring rooms full of books and jars and boxes, with an occasional small explosion or weird wailing emitting from the room he was in. Sam dug into piles and piles of old and new books, looking for some sort of information about what we were facing. The Doctor had dumped a few books of his own on the well oiled mahogany tables before exploring. Sam had poked through some of those but seemed to need the aid of other books to even decipher them.
Castiel was helping Dean dig through the files that the Men of Letters kept on anything they felt was associated with the extraterrestrial. This was proving to be frustrating because even the Men of Letters didn't have much cohesive information on the subject.
Feeling useless and a little overwhelmed I had gravitated toward the kitchen. In all these piles and strange stories, this was something safe and familiar so I putted around the kitchen brewing a strong pot of coffee. I found enough bits of this and that to throw together something for us to snack on. Carrying a tray stacked with cups, coffee, condensation coated bottles, chips, bowls and various dips back toward the library, I stepped carefully up the few steps into the room.
"This doesn't make any sense. The Men of Letters have been around for a pretty good chunk of time yet they have squat. I mean the files and stories have gaps and just don't make sense," Dean was sifting through boxes of dusty half full files with visible frustration on his face.
"Not surprising - it isn't time for humanity to embrace the idea of other. I mean demons and ghosts and angels - sure! But aliens - that is the bridge too far!" the Doctor chuckled to himself as he strolled back into the library.
Dean noticed me siddle my way into the library and set the heavy tray down on the edge of the table. He smiled as he grabbed a bottle; pulling the cap off with a twist and taking a long swig. The others slowly made their way over to the food, grabbing cups and bottles and scooping dips out of the bowls. We munched and sipped in silence for a few minutes.
"Thank you Joce," Castiel said, even though he hadn't touched the food. I held out the cup of coffee I had been holding to cool to him and he politely shook his head.
"Angels don't eat but thank you," he smiled.
"Yeah thanks," the other three chimed in between bites and slurps.
"What could be hunting me?" My knowledge of the "the bumps in the night", as the Doctor had said, was still limited to ghosts until told otherwise.
"Well, that is a list that is longer than you probably care to hear," Sam said with sympathy in his eyes. Shifting his gaze to the Doctor, "Are there any details or observations that you can give us that would help narrow the focus?"
"I wish I had more to go on. I know it was corporeal. But it's fast, whatever it is. I only glimpsed it for a second or so. But it oozed some kind of power. Not something I have felt - at least not that I can remember," he ran his hands through his hair, the frustration at his lack of information clear.
"But you did see it?" Castiel questioned.
"Only for a moment. Just a shape - very human looking so not very helpful."
The conversation continued with questions about where he had seen it, what time of day and time of year he had seen it, and many other things that didn't make sense to me but did to the boys.
Each clicking away on a laptop, they started pulling weather records, police reports, haunting websites, anything that related to a place or time that the Doctor provided information on.
I wasn't entirely sure what to do. Having no clue what they were looking for, I couldn't research anything. The Doctor bounced back and forth between the screens of the boys, answering questions and pointing out leads. Castiel leafed through a thick text that dealt with the effect of solar shifts on the supernatural.
After I finished my coffee, I cleaned up the dishes and, not knowing where was safe, returned to the library. I walked along the edge of a bookshelf eyeing the titles there. Many were records books on people or families, some were clearly spell books or counterspell books. Every now and then words like vampire, werewolf, shifter, and djinn appeared on the spines of the old leather bound books. This filled in that gap of what could be hunting me in a small way. Upon reading demon I decided this was not a good use of my time
I shuffled back over to the table covered in files, papers, and open textbooks. Quietly pulling an old yellow steno pad toward me, I grabbed one of the short pencils from the canister in the middle of the table and lost my thoughts in sketches and doodles.
Unsure of what to do, I had cooked breakfast the following morning. Before leaving the small bare room I had slept in, I neatly made the borrowed bed unlike my bed at home which was a whirlwind of blankets. Although there wasn't a great variety in the way of supplies in the kitchen, I dug up enough to make biscuits, potatoes and some eggs. Cooking grounded me. I had grown up making dinners with my parents and even if it sometimes made me sad, scooping and stirring and sauteing was safe, comforting, familiar. That was something I really needed right now.
As I was pulling the biscuits out of the oven, which had been much cleaner than I expected, my elbow caught on the counter behind me and I slammed the tray hard, grumbling and rubbing my sore funny bone.
"JOCE?" Sam shouted as he ran into the kitchen from the room he had been digging through. His gun was at his side. He stood for a moment in the doorway, just staring around.
"Sammy? Joce?" Dean entered the kitchen more slowly but I noticed his pearl handled gun at his side as well. He adopted the same deer-in-the-headlights face that his brother had on. Suddenly I was very aware that I had dived into their kitchen without permission and started mumbling apologies as I wiped up the counter.
"I should have asked. I'm sorry…"
Sam quickly closed the distance between the door and the counter.
"No Joce, thank you. I can't… I don't remember the last time I have had a homemade breakfast."
"Yeah," and I looked up to see Dean respond with a half-chewed biscuit in his mouth. My body relaxed as I realized it hadn't been anger on their faces. They gathered plates and silverware and jars of this and that from other places in the kitchen. I carried the hot trays and plates over to the small white table, placing them on worn brown pot holders.
Before the potatoes made it to the table, they were both piling their plates high with food. I set the skillet on the last potholder and Dean grabbed the spoon before I had pulled my hand back to pile the golden bits onto his plate. We ate in silence for a few minutes, only pausing to sip too hot coffee and tart, slightly expired orange juice.
After the eggs were gone and the biscuits had become honey and jam covered desserts, Dean broke the silence.
"Okay, you can stay if you show me how to make these," and he popped half a honey soaked biscuit into his mouth. I smiled and looked down at the tan surface of my cup. If only…
"Joce, I think that maybe you should stay," Sam said slowly, setting down his glass. My eyes flew to his.
"I mean you don't have to but we don't really know what is after you so we can't even tell you how to protect yourself. But here you are protected from most things. And we can give you space and everything I just…"
"I would like that," I tried to use a voice that didn't gush with the gratitude I felt. Truth be told, I was scared. I didn't know a fraction of what these boys did and if they couldn't figure out what it was, I didn't really feel like I stood a chance. Even though I didn't really know the boys either, I trusted them. I guess that is what a near-death experience will do for you. Besides, it's not like I had anything to race home to.
The ease that settled between the boys made me feel like I had just solved a problem they had discussed earlier.
"Is there any way I could get some things from home, like clothes?" I asked after draining my mug. Then I remembered what they had said about the distance and turned pink.
"I thought I smelled chips!" As if he had been waiting just behind the door, the Doctor popped into the kitchen, grabbed a clean plate from near the sink, and took a helping of potatoes and ketchup. Looking sideways at the Doctor, then back at me, Dean smiled like he had figured out a great plan.
About half an hour later, Sam and I stood in the center of the TARDIS, clinging to the railing, anticipating a bumpy ride similar to the one the night before. The Doctor jogged here and there throwing levers before we heard the soft thud meaning the TARDIS had landed. Sam had insisted that Dean stay behind in case Cas popped in with news and the relief that had washed over Dean's face told me that was an answered prayer.
I walked over to the door and gave it a soft push. The feeling of stepping out of a space travelling, time travelling police box into everything you have ever known was a surreal one. That might explain why it took me a moment to notice the place was in shambles.
"Sam!" He hurried into the room and stood close to me, staring around my apartment. Couches and chairs were toppled. Everything that could be smashed or thrown looked like it had been. Drawers were emptied and there was a weird smell hanging in the room.
"Looks like we were just in time," the Doctor added as he stepped out into the chaos.
"Better be quick," Sam said looking at me and pulling the dagger at his waist loose. I didn't need to be told twice as I jogged into my bedroom. I pulled the red suitcase from under my bed and then froze as I flung it open. There was this strange, almost eerie rippling just under my skin that I would never set foot here again. Although I pushed it away, that thought hung in the back of my mind and guided my hand as I hastily threw my life into a bag. After a few handfuls of clothing and essential toiletries, I down deep under my bed, I pulled out an old brown paper wrapped box and tucked it into my bag. I flitted around gathering my laptop, chargers, my locket, and a few other items that I barely thought about.
A few minutes later, I wheeled the small red bag into the living room where Sam and the Doctor had been poking around. Sam was near the window behind the couch and looked up, holding out a dirty hand.
"Sulphur," he said referencing the stain on his hand. "But it is weird. There are blue crystals mixed in it, I have never seen that before."
As if on cue, the front door opened and a slick haired, darkly dressed man stood there.
"TARDIS! Now!" the Doctor shouted, flinging the door open beside him. I ran the few feet between my door and the TARDIS, not stopping till I was several feet in. Sam was close behind me and the Doctor came last, quickly but calmly closing and locking the TARDIS door.
"Quick! Go!" Sam said anxiously.
"Relax, those doors are essentially impregnable. We have time," the Doctor spoke casually as he walked to the center console.
Suddenly a large crash shook the sides of the TARDIS and the room shook ever so slightly.
"No need to tarry however," he mused as his pace quickened and he threw the levers that brought the machine to life.