Before they settled in to wait for Ash to finish tracing Mycroft's phone, Sherlock suggested bringing in the shifter prisoner, in case they were attacked and couldn't get out to the TARDIS. Dean and Ellen were against it, at first, but eventually saw reason. They brought Moriarty in, blindfolded, gagged, and handcuffed with silver, and locked him in a back storage room.

In the end, Dean was the only one who headed out to the TARDIS. Personally, John knew he was too wired to sleep. He sat at the table, cradling a cold beer in one hand and chewing on his thumbnail. Sherlock soon abandoned him to go hang over Sam's shoulder as the younger Winchester surfed through his usual demon-hunter websites. Once River got back from meeting the Doctor and the Winchesters somewhere in the past, she, Amy, Jo, and Ellen started some sort of card game while the Doctor sat nearby, looking anxious and slowly loeafing through a thin book with Gallifreyan on the cover.

John's phone beeped. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen.

New text from Dean Winchester.

Hey man, can we talk for a sec? Without everyone else

John shrugged and stuck the phone back in his pocket. He'd been waiting for Dean to pull him aside. Out of everyone else here, John knew and Dean were the most alike. Sam, while just as good of a hunter as his brother, had a soft spot. Amy and the Doctor just wanted to save everyone. And Sherlock…well, John had to admit that his friend was likely more interested in the case because it was something new, not because he particularly cared about anyone else.

But Dean? Dean craved the fight. Dean wasn't happy unless he was hunting something. He would've made a good soldier.

John slid out of the front door without anyone even looking up, though he knew Sherlock and the Doctor both had to notice he was moving.

Dean stood off to the side in front of the TARDIS, looking at his phone.

John cleared his throat. "What-what's up?"

"Needed to talk to you about something."

"Yeah, figured that." John shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. "Look, Dean-I know we think a lot alike, but if you're planning something stupid, I just want to say right out that-"

Dean glanced up, and in the darkening evening light, his eyes glinted golden. "Oh, it's nothing stupid."

John was moving instantly, but it wasn't fast enough. A dark sack came down over his head and shoulders, pinning his arms to his sides. Something hard and heavy slammed into the side of his head. His legs went limp.

Just before he passed out, he heard shifter Dean say, "No, I've got it. You take care of him."

###

At the first sound of the TARDIS, everyone sat up straight in their chairs. The Doctor and Sherlock were both at the door first, with Sam right behind them, his gut in a knot. They got there just in time to see the TARDIS fade away.

"No!" The Doctor shouted, digging his fingers into his hair. "No, no, no! How could this happen? What-how-" He wandered out onto the porch, mout sagging open.

Movement caught Sam's eye, and he saw his brother stagger upright, clutching his head. "Dean!" He squeezed past Sherlock and the Doctor and grabbed Dean's arms. "What happened?"

"Whole pack of shifters…they jumped me…" Dean shook his head. "Agh."

"Where's John?" Sherlock demanded, his voice sharp.

"They grabbed him…I'm sorry, Sherlock, I tried to stop 'em but they walloped me good…"

"Dean, honey, come here. Let me look at that," Ellen said, reaching out to him.

Dean shied away. "No, no, Ellen, I'm fine." He swore and glanced over at the Doctor. "How'd they grab that thing? I thought you said that only Time Lords could fly it!"

"I don't know! I just…don't…know…"

"Earlier you mentioned that Mycroft probably had access to alien technology, and that's how the Shadow found him," Sherlock said coldly. "I imagine that's what happened in this case. Some ancient alien technology that could be hijacked to control the TARDIS."

River gripped the Doctor's shoulders, rasing his chin with her fingertips. "We'll find it, I promise."

"But how?" The Doctor sounded more distraught and upset than even when Dean had suggested killing something for the first time.

"Well, it's not gonna be solved standing out here bein' hysterical," Ellen said. "Get in, all of you. We don't know if we're safe."

The words shot a jolt through Sam. "Right. Sherlock, come with me. We'll do a perimeter check, Ellen."

She gave a sharp nod and hustled everyone else inside. The Doctor and River were the last to go, the Doctor's shoulders slumped, his hands still clasped at the back of his neck.

Splitting up, he and Sherlock quickly checked the woods along the edges of the parking lot, all the way down to the road. When they got back to the Roadhouse, everyone had clustered around the tables they'd shoved together again. Ellen was dabbing at the cut on Dean's head.

"We're good," Sam said. "Has Ash…?"

"Not yet," Amy said. "I just asked him. He said he's close, but I think he's gained a lot of respect for Mycroft."

"Hmph." Sherlock sat down. After no one said anything for a minute, he said, "Our first priority now is, of course, figuring out how to move about the country. I'm afraid we've gotten a bit spoiled with the TARDIS able to whisk us anywhere in a matter of seconds."

"And Baby's still in Michigan," Dean muttered.

"Unfortunately, with the sort of deadline we might be working under, I don't think a mere car is going to do us any good," the Doctor said heavily.

"I have this." River unlatched her leather bracelet and slid it across the table to Sherlock. "It's a vortex manipulator. Basically does the same thing as the TARDIS, but with the bracelet, it can only take one person, maybe two if someone is hanging onto me."

Sam picked it up, turning the cuff over in his hands. The bracelet itself was simple, just a leather strip with a clasp. A simple metal plate with a couple of buttons rested snugly against the of the cuff.

"Our second priority is tracing Mycroft and finding where they've taken Rory and John," Sherlock said. "And getting them back. Safely."

"Hang on," Amy said uneasily. "You don't mean you're going to-"

"Oh please, of course not. I'm just as committed to keeping Sam safe as any of you," Sherlock snapped at her.

Sam glanced uneasily at Dean, his Dean's head hung back over his chair, his eyes closed, like he wasn't ewven paying any attention to the conversation. He must have a killer of a headache.

He leaned over to the Doctor. "We need that book," he whispered.

"I've been reading it," the Doctor replied evenly.

"And?"

"Only if I have to, Sam Winchester."

Dean suddenly stood up, eyes still squinted nearly shut. "Look, guys, I'm gonna go see how Ash is doin'."

"What a second!" River grabbed her vortex manipualtor. "Dean, could we wire this to your car?"

"Do what?" Dean yelped.

"Doctor?" River looked at him. "Would it be possible? Could we wire this into the Winchesters' car and use it as a sort of TARDIS?"

The Doctor's mouth dropped open, and his eyes wandered around the room. "Well…it wouldn't be very good TARDIS…in fact I'd argue by saying it's not really a TARDIS at all…"

"Doctor." Amy leaned in his face. "Focus."

"It could work," River said confidently.

"How do you know?" Dean demanded.

"Because I'm part Time Lord. And because he only gets defensive like that if you're being cleverer than him."

The Doctor flapped his hands. "Ooh, yes, bloody brilliant you!" Then he grinned. "Yes, it would most likely work."

Except Dean's not going to let that thing near Baby, Sam thought.

Dean ran his hand through his ahir, then sighed. "If we gotta do it, we gotta."

Before Sam's jaw even had time to drop, River grabbed Dean's hand and pressed a button on the vortex manipulator. They were gone in a sizzle of light.

Sam flopped down into his chair, trying to process what he'd just heard. His brother had agreed to mess with Baby? To wire her into something that who knew how it would affect the car? That was…not normal…

Dammit.

###

When John awoke, he was curled up on a cold cement floor. It was dark, but based on the way the sound echoed as he moved. He squinted, trying to catch any of his surroundings at all, and reached forward cautiously. His fingers hit a cool chain-link fence.

John's mouth went dry, and he ran his hand down the fence to the floor. The chain link was imbedded into the cement. He traced his hands along the fencing up to above his head. He was in a cage.

He gritted his teeth and slammed his fist into the fencing.

Someone grunted off to his right.

John spun around, heart pounding in his throat. "Hullo? Who's there?"

After a few seconds of quiet, another British voice said, "Umm, sorry…who are you?"

Not Mycroft, and not his ever-present assistant Althea either. John couldn't ever remember hearing this particular voice before. On a chance, he said cautiously, "Rory? Rory Williams?"