Massachusetts, USA

1:42pm

The highway was mind numbing – the typical repetition of grey roads, clouds and cars made Sam's eyes droopy. Drops of rain fell from the curtained sky, and each drop seemed to remind Sam of angels. Like them, raindrops were controlled and when they wanted to, they could be chaotic and destructive. Cas had been controlled once, and then suddenly he was wiping out masses of his species – like how hurricanes could shatter entire towns at once.

Randomly, the thought of combustion gave Sam the image of Ruby burning up as she was murdered by her own blade. How long had it been? It must have been about 3 years since she'd turned to a wilted corpse in his arms. A pang in his stomach reminded him of the feelings he'd had for her, along with triggering a headache. For the first time since Jess, he'd been sure of his feelings for the demon girl that was so stubborn about 'helping' him. A sharp pulse in his head made Sam unwillingly grumble, so he gulped down some more coffee,

"You okay there, Sammy?" Dean heard his brother through the pounding AC-DC. He turned it down for Sam's sake – he knew his younger brother didn't exactly have the same taste as him.

He'd dismissed it as a headache, but Sam's head was really beginning to throb,

"Yeah... Yeah do you have any painkillers? Think I'm getting a migraine..." Sam massaged his forehead with his free hand,

"Sam, we just stopped at a damn gas station. Could you time your migraines better? They're not like the ones from... You know. Yellow Eyes, right?" Dean leaned towards his brother, who squeezed his eyes shut and smashed his coffee cup down.

It probably wasn't Yellow Eyes – it couldn't be, he was dead – but it sure felt like it. The pounding was like a drum in his brain, only a hundred times louder and more powerful. It roared and boomed like untamed thunder in his head.

Once again, for the third time that day, Dean pulled the Impala over. Irritated, he heaved himself out of the car. Instead of walking around to open Sam's door, he stopped and stared across the highway.

As he looked across, he saw a man in a shredded black suit – a blue tie stained brown was knotted backwards. Though Dean could not technically see them, he sensed the deep blue of the angel's eyes that he had become so familiar with.

Forgetting Sam – as selfish as it was – he cried out the name that had been rarely used by his lips for so long,

"Cas!" He bellowed, his voice echoing past the cars zooming past him. Dean quickly turned to make sure Sam wasn't dying – Cas would help him – and turned back to run across the road.

However, the raggedy angel was gone,

"Dean!" Sam called from the car, diverting Dean's attention. His brother was trying to get out of the car whilst pressing his palms to his head, but dropped to the floor like a rock. And that was when the images flowed violently into his head:

A man fell from the top of a building, then thumped into a crumpled heap on the paved floor. Black and gold, a grave shone in the morning sun – Sherlock Holmes. In front of the grave stood a regular looking man patting the ground, then he sauntered off into the distance with tears in his dark eyes.

The image flickered into one of Castiel and Meg standing over the same grave – talking quietly. Sam could not hear them, but noticed they were acting much friendlier than the typical angel and demon would. The dirt in front of the grave – the precise spot that had been patted – seemed to start rumbling, then the ground coughed up the man who had fallen.

Another image, but with a familiar face – Dean pulling himself out of the ground where he had been buried by Sam almost 4 years ago.

Blue began falling into place, into the shape of a box – an old English Police Box. Jerkily, the vision Sam opened the door of the box. It took a while for him to realise the inside was bigger, with a huge control room – it looked alien, but not in the stereotypical alien way.

Three men and two women stood together – Sam couldn't help but notice how beautiful the taller of the women was. Tall in a way that wasn't so awkward, hair a soft shade of red; one of the men – who had a childish grin pasted across his face – tapped her nose,

"Righty, Pond. Let's find these Winchesters."

Involuntarily, Sam turned around in the vision. The doors he had walked through were now blocked by a grey figure – one that hid its eyes with its stony hands. A second later, Sam realised the hands were actually real stone. Blinking hard to make sure he wasn't hallucinating – he then flinched in shock. The figure had moved closer to him by at least a foot, revealing it's solid eyes,

"Sam!" A coarse voice rumbled through his head – familiar, but Sam was too dazed to know who it was, "Don't blink, Sam! Whatever takes the image of an angel is an angel!" He felt a hand touch his head lightly – similar to a feather; then found himself in a completely white room. Sam saw the hand with slender fingers moving away from his eyes, and recognised the face behind it,

"Cas?" Sam said, knowing it was stupid. Of course it was Cas – his trench coat and after-sex style hair was enough evidence,

"Sam. I need you to wake up now. They're in your head now, Sam!" Cas sounded angry – not at Sam, but himself, "Wake up!"

"Wake up!"

The combined voices of Dean and Cas made Sam's sea-coloured eyes burst open. A sharp intake of air was sucked into his lungs, and he rapidly sat up,

"Sammy, are you okay? What happened?" His brother's face was in front of his, caked with concern, but behind that was what Sam's attention was on.

Castiel was walking up to them. He was dressed in a suit that could pass for rags – it was stained all sorts of dirty colours and his previously white shirt looked yellow. Speechless, Sam simply gawked at the sight – which in turn caused Dean to look, and the change in pace of his heartbeat could literally be heard. Dean, too, also seemed at a loss for words,

"Hello, Dean," Cas said, his eyes filled with something Sam could not quite define – though it must have been some form of guilt. Silence fell for a couple long seconds, "The others will be here soon, I need you not to be alarmed,"

"Others?" Dean finally spoke, his voice a touch higher than normal. He swallowed, standing away from his brother, "What?"

As if planned, a robotic sound began fading slowly into hearing, the volume increasing gradually. It sounded like a machine, but not one of the brothers had heard anything like it before – Castiel simply stood with an impassive expression. Behind him, Dean swore he could see something blue – then he was certain. Something blue was fading into their reality in the same rhythm as the mechanical noise.

Once the object – A blue Police Box, which scared Sam – had landed, the door opened inwardly, and a man hopped out,

"Castiel, your girlfriend is a big nuisance – messing with my TARDIS! Nobody messes with my TARDIS! Except River – Well – oh!" He stopped, straightened his red bow tie, and smiled, "You must be Sam and Dean – hello! I'm The Doctor, wonderful to meet you!" The Doctor leapt towards Dean, noticed he was a couple inches taller, then stood on his toes to kiss both his cheeks – making the 'smooch' sound effects. Dean grimaced in confusion. Sam stared at The Doctor in horror, which caused the smile to fade from his face,

"Alright, alright. I know I'm having a bad hair day, doesn't mean you need to look like that!" He swept his hand through his fringe, then stuck it out to Sam, "Last I checked, the floor wasn't very comfortable," The Doctor helped him get up, and gaped as he saw how much taller Sam was, "Well, aren't you going to be the big elephant in the room, eh?"

"Well... It's either that or Moose," Sam said mostly to himself, still feeling jittery from the vision.

Behind The Doctor, four more people stepped out of the TARDIS. Castiel's eyes simply brushed over the first three people, then focused on Meg for much longer, which Dean noticed. He didn't say a thing, but reminded himself to have a 'dude-to-dude' talk with the angel later. Not recognising any of the people who'd just stepped out of the box apart from Meg, Dean turned to his brother – then sighed dramatically. Sam was giving lovey-dovey eyes to the girl that wasn't Meg – who, Dean had to admit – had a rather appealing face,

"Sammy," He hissed, elbowing his brother. Sam slowly turned to look at his brother; "Her hand," Dean had a habit of checking whether a girl was married before he did things with them, and had noticed there was a ring on this woman's finger. He smirked at Sam, who scowled like a child,

"Sam, Dean," Cas started, finally taking his gaze off Meg, "This is Amelia Pond, Rory Williams and Sherlock Holmes. Obviously... you've met Meg before," he shuffled awkwardly,

"Amelia Pond?!" Sam exclaimed loudly – it was indeed a significant name to him. After all, his first kiss had been with an Amelia Pond who later called herself Amy. The Amelia stood in front of him studied him with a slightly disturbed expression, twirling her ginger hair. The man who went by Sherlock rolled his eyes,

"Don't go after her, boy. You don't have a chance in –" He halted, rethinking his sentence, "She's married. Now stop staring."

The rude remark caused Sam to flush and take a step closer to Dean, which was a habit of his that he had developed whenever he felt threatened. Rory sent a razor-sharp glare in his direction, which unnerved Sam even more. He hadn't even spoken to the guy and he was already on his bad side,

"Right, uh," The Doctor clapped his hands together, walking closer to the TARDIS, "Well, we better get going. What shall I call you – my crew? Yes. This is my crew! Anyways, come along all, come along." He trotted through the open TARDIS doors, disappearing inside. Amy, Rory and Sherlock followed,

"I am not going inside that thing," Sam stated firmly, his heart starting to pump blood a little faster – that statue, whatever it had been, had terrified him, "That – thing, what even was it? I've never seen anything like that before,"

Dean frowned in confusion, "What are you on about, man?"

Cas moved silently towards the two brothers, Meg at his side. Like a little puppy dog. Dean thought to himself, annoyed that he'd probably end up being stuck in the same room with the bitch for multiple hours at a time,

"I sense... similar energies from you like the ones in Manhattan. They're weak, but they're definitely present," the angel looked at Sam hard, tilting his head the way he always did, "In your vision, when I told you to wake up... I don't seem to remember what happened. I just know I made you wake up." Cas frowned, "Perhaps we should wait –"

"Oi! You lot!" The small crowd all turned to see The Doctor poking his head out of the TARDIS doors, "We're meant to be going! Stop gossiping and get in here, would you?"

"Wait, wait – who said we were going with you?" Dean looked from The Doctor to his brother,

"I did," The voice of Cas was suddenly next to Dean's ear, causing him to jump, "Well, technically I didn't say it. You're coming with us,"

Cas pressed his fingers to the heads of Sam and Dean – though the TARDIS was only a few metres away – and took them into the TARDIS,

"Stupid boys." Meg muttered, "Not even capable of walking themselves a couple metres."

The Doctor had never seen so many people in his TARDIS, not since he'd been walking around with another man's face, and it thrilled him. Though most people there were strangers, he still felt the warm feeling of being surrounded by people.

He watched warily as Dean and Sam entered the TARDIS – Sam looked petrified, his eyes enlarged and he quickly whirled around to face the door as if something behind him had panicked him. This puzzled The Doctor, and as the tall man turned to face the TARDIS console once more, the fear seemed to have deceased – but not completely. An edge of uncertainty swam around in his eyes.

Dean's reaction was quite the opposite: "What the hell?" he uttered under his breath, then eyed up The Doctor with a creased brow, "Son of a bitch has a magic wardrobe – what are you, a Trickster?" He began reaching into the bag that had been tossed over his shoulder, but his brother stopped him,

"I saw this... in the vision, Dean. It's okay," Sam spoke in a low voice, which meant 'we'll talk about it later'. The Doctor chuckled,

"Ah, no Dean. Tricksters are a lot creepier looking, although I must say I'm not exactly the prettiest flower in the field – ha-ha! I'm a Time Lord, I travel through time and space in my spare time. No Trickster-ing. Cross my hearts!" He drew out an "X" shape over where each of his hearts were. Dean pulled a face of bewilderment, clearly not having the faintest idea what The Doctor was on about. However, he'd seen much weirder than a man claiming he had two hearts – so pushed the thought of it into the back of his brain, along with all the other crap he wished to forget. If Cas trusted this lunatic, then he was prepared to do something similar.

Sherlock lurked around the console, gliding his fingers over the many components. He'd never seen things like this, and it irritated him greatly. This was unfamiliar, and barely anything was ever unfamiliar to him. In fact, since the second he'd thrown himself off that roof, everything had been unfamiliar. He simply wanted to be back in 221B Baker Street with John, searching for crimes to solve that were familiar.

The red haired woman, whose skin was much too flawless, walked up to Sherlock, a soft smile on her rouged lips. Up close, Sherlock could now see that a few faded freckles were scattered across her cheeks,

"Strange at first, isn't it?" The woman, Amelia, said. Sherlock hadn't really heard her speak before, and noticed a Scottish lilt to her speech,

"That would be correct. I'm not entirely sure what all this tit-tat is," He looked her in the eye, and could see splashes of kindness in them. This woman was very accepting and caring, but also cared about how she looked. However, she didn't do it to make herself noticeable – she did it for herself. Sherlock inferred all this just from a small glance at her face, "It's not my strong point, unfortunately, Amelia,"

"Please, call me Amy," She hovered her index finger over a pair of levers, "They're stabilisers. How about everyday you're here I tell you the name of a new part of the console, hmm? Anyways, I better get back to Rory..." She hushed her voice to a whisper, "He gets a little jealous, the poor thing,"

Before Sherlock could reply, Amy twirled around towards her husband, and began to talk to him instead. Sherlock was, once again, alone in a room full of people who were unfamiliar.

Cas shivered. He could sense many strange energies, and it worried him. Even when Lucifer had risen out his cage, he hadn't felt something as powerful as this – for the first time ever, Cas felt the emotion of "fear",

"You're looking rather pale, Clarence. You getting homesick?" A swish of dark hair alerted Cas of Meg's presence. She always unearthed new feelings inside Cas, and he wasn't entirely sure what they were. Emotions were new to him, and defining them was difficult without some assistance,

"I sense an alarming amount of energies from Manhattan," He stated, purposely not looking at the demon. Instead, he focused his gaze on the two Winchester boys, who were talking quietly in a corner, "Meg, why did you agree to come?"

She let out a little snigger, "Can't I tag along sometimes? I'm on your side," A hand unexpectedly skirted up the sleeve of Cas's muddy suit, so he flinched and looked right into the demon's eyes. He expected them to be completely human, as demons had the ability to hide their obsidian gaze – however the chocolate irises had flecks of black, so small they couldn't be seen unless looked into deeply...

"Clarence? You're staring rather tremendously there... You getting your feathers in a mess?" Cas could see Meg's eyes squint slightly, and when he looked down to her reddened lips he could see a mischievous smile, "Alright then. I think you should have a nap... and that's saying something. You winged beauties don't appear to like catching Zs."

"Angels don't sleep, Meg," He replied, unaware of the sarcasm. It amused Meg how oblivious the angel could be even after several years of walking among humans,

"Well, we're quite the polar opposites then. Anyways, I'm off to find the bathroom, Clarence. Lady Problems." The demon tapped Cas's cheek with her index finger, then began walking towards a corridor to their left. Cas liked the way her heeled boots tapped in an even rhythm as she strolled, and he let himself smile.

Off to his right, the angel heard The Doctor yell something about a bumpy ride – and watched as he pulled down a lever. The mechanical noise of the engine whirred and rumbled through the console room, which the angel no longer found peculiar. However, when he turned to the two Winchester brothers, they were gripping on to the walls for dear life – and it amused the angel. They had both faced Hell and the Devil himself, yet they found a control room making noises much scarier,

"You boys are rather wimpy for a pair of giants, you know," The Doctor leaned casually against the console, his arms folded to reveal the leather patches on the elbows of his tweed jacket, "We're just flying – well, technically no – but we'll just say flying so we don't have to get all boring and technical about it," A hollow boom rang through the ears of the people inside, "Here we are. Already here! Off we pop," The Doctor turned to see Sherlock behind him along with the Ponds, "Ooh. I've not been to New York since 1969! This should be exciting!" He pounced away from the console, briskly walking towards the doors – a bounce in his step,

"Did I just hear New York? I'm pretty sure that's every girls dream, right?" The voice of Meg drawled from down the corridor she'd walked towards before. As she appeared, Cas noticed she had applied some make up to her round face – most notably, some bright red lipstick that stood out against her dark hair. His wings unintentionally ruffled behind his shoulders – when Meg had said 'Lady Problems' this has not been his thought.

Feeling as though he should say something, Cas cleared his throat and spoke the first thing that came to mind: "You look very pretty," the angel said with a barely visible smile. The compliment sounded awkward in his raspy, monotone voice – and it earned a glance from every person in the room,

"Dear God," Sherlock rolled his eyes. Since he'd been on the TARDIS, he had changed out of his muddy clothes and was wearing some of The Doctor's old ones. He looked like one of the Time Lord's old faces in a long, murky brown coat and a pinstripe suit with a little red tie poking out. Cas had discovered many things whilst in Purgatory, "Is everyone just going to flirt?"

The detective marched towards the TARDIS doors, muttering something about couples being a nuisance.

The TARDIS had landed under a tree in Central Park – the grass was greener than most places, even if it was in a busy city where pollution would be high. Zooming down roads, yellow taxis carried people to wherever they wanted to go – drivers would honk at their work partners as they drove past, giving each other a little wave. Visitors at the park were laying on rugs and blankets, eating various picnic foods and enjoying the outdoors.

It was a sunny day in New York – nobody would have guessed there was a possibility of anything going wrong.

Now a crowd, everyone had stepped out of the TARDIS and surrounded The Doctor. Everyone considered him the leader, which gave him mixed feelings – he liked it when humans trusted him, but then the side thought of letting them down haunted him. In his many years, he felt as though he had let down so many innocent people. He shook his head – not this time. Nobody would be hurt or left this time,

"Alright, gang!" He clapped his hands together, and began pacing back and forth slowly, "Castiel here can sense – how did he put it? – 'strange energies' from this area-"

Sam coughed, interrupting The Doctor, "There's also been a report of statues moving, along with people going missing. Dean and I were gonna work a case here before you guys came along," the remark caused the Time Lord to stop pacing. With a frown, he turned to face the taller man, who had informed him,

"Oh... I know what it is," Memories of stone angels filled his head – In England, when his face had been different, and then at the crash of the Byzantium with his lover. His gaze trailed over to Amy, who was terrified of the cold beings – that had been made clear when she had walked through a forest full of them, and had possessed one inside her head, "Angels,"

His eyes remained on Amy's, and he noticed them dilate with fright. Cas stared at The Doctor, confused as to what he had just said, "They are not angels, Doctor-"

"I didn't mean your kind. Angels made of stone, Weeping Angels. They send people back in time, then feed off the energy released from it." The Winchesters and Sherlock had not seen The Doctor be serious before, so this new side to him was a surprise. The Time Lord sniffed, urging to be a little humorous to break the sudden tension, "Cas, you smell like a Cyberman's bottom. That isn't good, by the way – they smell really bad. You might want to shower and change out of that rubbish – people might look at you funny."

Once again, the crowd all turned their heads to look at Cas. Most would have been embarrassed, but the angel kept a straight expression – which wasn't unusual, whenever anyone communicated with him his expression tended to stay the same. Without a word, he stepped into the TARDIS, closing the doors behind him. The Doctor began to speak again, but literally a second later the angel stepped outside again – pushing the door instead of pulling it, to The Doctor's dismay – clothed in a clean black suit, a new tan trench coat and a freshly shaved face,

"Sorry, I took a little longer than expected," More glances. Cas smiled as if it was completely normal,

"Right, well... I vote we split up and check on statues," The Doctor started, "They move when you blink, so if one moves when you blink... Keep a distance. Don't go alone," The Time Lord pointed at Sherlock, "You, come with me. The rest, I think your pairs are clear. Let's go on an Angel hunt."