"Wait, why do we need to go into this police box?" Sherlock groaned. "And why is it bigger on the inside? This is impossible."
"We need to see why Sam's been having these dreams, and so far, you are the only link, apart from Moriarty," Dean explained. "The Doctor, as much as I hate to admit it, is the only one who'll be able to get to the bottom of this, seeing as my 'angel friends' are nowhere to be found."
"It'd also help if we found any others having the premonitions I've been having, and we know you're a consulting detective, so we believe you could be of help to us." Sam added, his eyes not once glancing away from Rory. "Plus, you'd get away from the cops."
"I admit, this is quite unusual, but... I guess... Although this is pretty improbable, once the impossible has been eliminated, whatever remains must be the truth," Sherlock stated, which was his long-winded way of agreeing to it.
"So where are we going?" Amy smiled.
"Nowhere any time soon..." The Doctor flounced around the control panel. "TARDIS won't start again."
"Who's hungry?" Sam said all of a sudden. "I'll go and get us some food, if you want."
"Get me pie." Dean grunted, not making eye contact with his brother.
"Rory, I don't know my way around here. Would you mind coming with?"
"Uh yeah, sure. I'm not too familar with London myself, but I've been here a couple of times..."
...
Once they were a few yards away from the TARDIS, Rory's eyebrows raised above a level that could've been deemed impossible, as he stared at Sam questioningly. He hadn't understood why this new acquiantance had asked for him to come, as he was sure as hell that it wasn't for directions. He winced, still stiff from his recent injuries, as they walked along the street.
"Why'd you want me to come?" he finally asked. "And I want the truth."
"I saw you talking to Amy earlier, when Dean and I were helping Sherlock and John. I... I recognized that feeling-" Sam started, but Rory cut him off.
"I was fine! I am fine!"
"You've seen Sherlock's fall too?"
"How'd you kno-"
"Something's going on. I'm not the only one having these premonitions. Last time I had these, there were hundreds with psychic powers, from different generations and everything. You were acting weird, so I just put two and two together."
"Have you seen anything else?"
"I've had this one other nightmare, about The Doctor. I assumed it was a flashback from something that happened a year ago, but it was...different. We had burned him, because Time Lord blood is valuable or something, but it wasn't in Utah like last year."
Rory sighed, breathing his frustrations out into the open. A year ago, it was easy for him to accept that life was going to be crazy with The Doctor, but now, after spending so much time in the 'real' world with just Amy for company, he couldn't just click back into the 'travelling Rory' persona. He usually would be completely indifferent towards Amy's admittedly still child-like faith in their old friend, but for some reason, on that particular trip, he ceased to put up with it. He was sick of everyone glorifying The Doctor, making him look like an unflawed being who could do no wrong, which was why Sam and Dean were a lightening addition to the group.
"You alright?" Sam noticed the decrease in Rory's walking pace.
Rory nodded, but Sam wasn't so convinced. He'd seen his brother bottle up his issues to the point where when he finally burst, he became an inconsolable mess, and he wasn't going to let his new friend do the same.
"Talk to me." he smiled calmly, providing the other man with a sense of trust in him.
"I'm just sick of travelling all the time. I'm fine."
"Anyway, food... What do Amy and The Doctor like?"
"The Doctor likes anything fishy, and Amy will have whatever I get, and Dean?"
"Anything edible, apart from salad."
...
Once they'd all devoured their food, Rory quickly excused himself, not in the mood to sit around listening to the discussion, or be involved in solving whatever it was they were trying to solve this time. It seemed that only Sam and Amy had noticed his absence, leaving the pair quiet during the others' discussion about the situation. The Doctor seemed a little bit more mellow than usual. Instead of being a flailing jumble of a man, he came across as unusually composed, even in the company of someone as sophisticated as Sherlock Holmes. The group seemed to gel well together; Sherlock was happy not to be in the company of a group of all idiots, having someone intellectually equal like The Doctor in his midst; Dean and John seemed to be on the same wavelength, as far as personality and attitude to the case went; and Sam relatability had quickly increased his friendship with Rory and Amy- arguably the most normal of the group- from being acquaintances to as if they'd known each other for a while, although it had only been a few hours.
At that moment in time, they'd been standing so long waiting for the TARDIS to cooperate, that most of them had resorted to sitting on the floor. Once or twice, John had suggested that they head back to the flat, but they'd decided that it'd be too risky for him and Sherlock to go back, in case the police had the flat guarded in the hope that the pair would return. The Doctor was the only one properly standing, as he paced the TARDIS floor, his hands clasped behind his back and his head facing the ground. Amy was sitting cross legged, twirling a lock of her red hair nervously, glancing over to the room that Rory was in. Sam and Dean were leaning against the control panel, half-sitting, half-standing as they conversed with the others, Sam describing the Sherlock dream in full detail.
"Do I get pushed, or do I jump off the ledge myself?" Sherlock asked, contorting his face with interest.
"You jump yourself," somehow, now the man was in front of him, Sam felt more comfortable thinking about the dream. "But when you jump, it's as if part of the fall is missing."
"How was Rory when you went to go and get food?" The Doctor asked suddenly. "He didn't seem himself."
"He was okay." Sam straightened up, getting ready to walk about for a bit because his leg had went to sleep. "I think he was just tired. He got pretty beat up back at that motel."
...
The hammer crashed against Rory's head in an almost ritualistic fashion, drilling the pain throughout his entire forehead. The pressure was building, threatening to shatter his skull into a million pieces.
The Doctor is going to burn.
The voice was nothing more than a hiss, but the last word seemed to go on forever, sending a ring through Rory's ears. He could faintly here the others laughing and talking in the other room, which did wonders for the monstrosity of a headache that had taken residence behind his eyebrows.
Sam was also suffering, feeling an immediate sudden agony creep up behind his eyes, before pouncing with full force. He writhed, slipping down from the control panel and into a sitting position on the floor. Whimpering, he pushed himself up to lean against the wall of the panel, his hand shaking as it pressed against the floor, his knuckles turning white.
Tell The Doctor he's going to burn. Tell him! Tell him! TELL HIM!
Almost instinctively, he screamed, gasping desperately for air as the voice crescendo'd. Dean rushed to his brother's side, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him as if it would knock some sense into him. Distantly, they could hear another set of whimpers, obviously coming from the other room of the TARDIS.
"Rory!" Amy pulled herself up from the floor and darted into the other room, ready to make sure her husband wasn't dead or dying or injured again.