The Doctor and Sherlock led the way, with Amy not too far behind them, and Dean and John leading behind, with their guns at the ready should any rogue Apalapucians have appeared. They'd been walking for at least two hours, and the humid air of the foreign planet was slowly, but most surely, getting to a few of them. Sherlock had lost the elegant bounce in his step, and was reduced to a reduntant, yet fast paced shuffle, as his aching feet threatened to buckle as they trekked over the bumpy Apulapucian terrain. Amy was also struggling to fight the temptation of the relaxing tiredness that was controlling our body.

"Who is it we're looking for anyway, spaceman?" Dean yawned, perching down on a sparkly blue rock for a quick rest.

"I don't know his name," The Doctor sighed, sighing tiredly, which was unusually out of character for him. "But he's our only hope. He's anonymous, and probably will remain this way when we meet him."

"But who is he? Why are we here?"

"It's just... it's mythical space legend. In the past few years, it seems like he is one of the only things in the universe that has had any contact with the Gallifreyans in the Time Lock. If anyone knows anything at all, it will be him."

"You said like five minutes ago that nothing can get into the Time Lock, and nothing can get out."

"Nothing physical...Apart from maybe a star. Telepathic energies could easily pass through the Lock, with the right kind of transmitting signal."

"I don't like this planet." Dean stated harshly. "It's beautiful, but once you look past the glamour, I bet this place is hiding some awful characters. I'm usually not one to hide away from danger, but I think we should head back to the TARDIS. You don't know who or what you are looking for!"

"I didn't... I didn't think about that." The Doctor swallowed the little ounce of pride he had left at his mistake. "Maybe Sam and Rory have seen something?"

"Four hours of walking in a germ filled, humid climate. Brilliant..." John cursed, turning around to head the other way.

"Oh so now we're giving up, Doctor?" Amy gasped with an erupting laugh. "That's not like you!"

"There's nothing to give up, Amy." he sighed, accepting his defeat. "I got caught up. I wanted to show you guys Apalapucia, forgetting that I barely even know who the man we were looking for is! All I know is that during this time period, he may have known about the Time Lock and that in the only other time we could reach him, he was dying of Chen7."

...

Three shots. Three men. Three deaths.

Dean crashed to the floor, gasping and wincing and screaming for his sacred life. The sniper was long gone, the smoke drifting off the end of his gun as he bolted. The Winchester could feel the blood- thick and red, and spewing out unhealthily- from the wound in his back. He choked, staining his chin with the congealed substance. He staggered towards the TARDIS, reaching to knock with his last ounce of energy, unable to die without saying a proper goodbye to his brother first.

John staggered away from the hospital, the image of Sherlock's still, cold body lying on the pavement etched into his mind. The bullet spliced through his back, firing deeply into his flesh as his body planted itself on the ground with a thud. The sniper was clearing up after himself, stuffing the gun into his bag, before dashing out of the building.

Rory glared at the sniper, feeling the cool tip of the gun against his neck. He was perfectly capable of grabbing it from the man, but something inside of him had hoisted itself up into his gullet, leaving him unable to move without the threat of a bout of retching.

"Shoot me." he whispered. "Come on, shoot me!"

The bullet burned through his throat, carving a hole through his esophagus as it worked its way into his neck.

...

The ear piercing scream erupted from the other room, forcing Rory into panic mode. Sam had decided to try and get a little bit more sleep while they waited for the others to get back, so Rory understood what had happened.

"What did you see, Sam?" he demanded calmly, standing in the door frame as he watched the other man get up.

"Dean, John and you..." he swallowed the sickly saliva that had filled his mouth, shivering slightly as he stood up. "All three of you got shot..."

"Vision?" Rory queried. "My head feels fine. Usually when one of us have a vision, the other one gets it soon after..."

"I don't know..."

...

The rest of the group arrived back in the TARDIS about an hour later, complaining of being tired, and having achy feet, and not in the mood for anything bad to happen.

"Dean?" Sam perked his head into the control room. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"What is it Sammy?" he nodded, slowly walking through to meet his brother."

"I'm so sorry."

"No need to apologize to me, you son of a bitch. The only person you're harming if you don't sleep is yourself."

"Dean, that's not true. I scared the hell out of you when I passed out, and back in the TARDIS, Rory didn't hold back telling me how stupid I was." Sam stared at the floor, his hands shaking with a fervent apprehension. "I'm not fit to be on this case, Dean. Talking about all of this, being so close to what's making me so miserable... I can't, Dean. I can't."

"Rory's coping, why can't you be the same?" Dean raised his voice slightly, forcing out an angry growl through a few of his words.

"He's been on the TARDIS for ages. He's saw The Doctor die before. He's saw Amy die before-"

"And you've seen me die, Sam. For real. You can deal with a couple of dreams featuring people you didn't know before a week ago-"

"Dean. I don't wan-... No, I can't be on the case."

"Where the hell are you going to go then?"

"We can sort that out..."