A/N: This chapter is because Dean is more intelligent than he lets on. That is all.
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Supernatural or Doctor Who or any of the related rights.
...
Dean had a lot of ground to cover, and not very much time to cover it in.
There were too many starting places—that was the problem.
At least he wasn't lost. Dean took another swig of water from the first water bottle he'd opened. There wasn't much left in it, but he was reluctant to open the second one. The day was getting on, and he didn't know how much longer he'd be out here.
He checked his compass again. He'd been going west for a while, so maybe he'd turn north. Then he could go southeast to backtrack if he didn't find anything in the next hour or so.
He fingered the small flashlight in his pocket. He'd need to pull it out soon. The trees were tall enough that the sunset would bring darkness long before it hit the horizon.
He swatted at an unbroken spider web, grunting his annoyance—when he saw something, just out of the corner of his eye. He turned, surprised, to see that he hadn't been mistaken. There really was something brilliantly blue further down.
The TARDIS!
Dean broke into a run, crashing through trees, probably making more noise than was necessary, but when he finally ran up to the beautiful, big, blue box, he wrapped his arms around her outsides. "I have never been happier to see you," he whispered to the TARDIS.
The TARDIS dinged at him, and it sounded like a pleased ding. So that was a good sign.
"Look," he said, not sure where to start. The Doctor always talked to the TARDIS like it was alive, and Dean had always subscribed to the idea that mechanical things had a mind of their own (take the Impala for instance), so talking to the TARDIS just might work. "I know you haven't met me yet, but you're going to. And you're a smart time machine; I'm sure you can figure me out. The name's Dean Winchester. And in my life, I've been inside you when I was eight, fourteen, and seventeen. I've met Silurians and weeping angels, and I've traveled in time twice now. So if you're half as smart as the Doctor says you are, please let me in."
The TARDIS dinged a couple more times before, to Dean's relief, the doors swung open. "Thank you!" he muttered, casually touching one of the coral-like pillars before he rushed inside.
"Okay." He cracked his knuckles. "If it's a demon, we're going to be looking for these kind of frequencies." He paused, waiting for the TARDIS. He didn't know where to input information.
Ding. Something moved to his right, and there was the scanner. The TARDIS was translating the language in his head, and he could, for the most part, tell how to at least feed the TARDIS information if nothing else.
"Okay, these are the EMFs we'd need to look out for if it's a demon," he said. "And if it's witchcraft, the frequencies should be similar. Same power source." He kept right on typing. "If it's a ghost, we'll look for—"
Suddenly, the TARDIS lurched into action, and Dean had to grab the nearest support rail to keep from falling over.
"Whoa!" He steadied himself. "Okay, then. You steer."
But without the Doctor steering, this was a much bumpier ride than he'd expected. It was all Dean could do to hang on for dear life as the TARDIS went spinning and lurching and jumping all over the place.
"You'd think you could handle a short jump like this! You're just moving in space, not time!" Dean shouted over the clanging of the TARDIS bells.
He was pretty sure the clanging changed to be a little more annoyed.
Finally, the TARDIS landed, and the clanging and banging stopped. Carefully releasing his grip on the support rails, Dean rushed to the console to run his hands over it and whisper, "Good girl. Thanks a million." And then he was off, out the doors, ready to find Rose and the Doctor.
The TARDIS had parked herself a good ways away from the action (which was probably a good thing; no sense endangering their ticket to safety), but Dean could see some kind of smoke rising through the trees to the north. He checked his compass again, just to be safe, so he could remember where the TARDIS was, and then pocketed it and downed the rest of his first water bottle.
"Well," he said. "Here goes nothing."
He was much more careful this time about how much noise he made as he crept through the trees, watching for any branches or leaves that might make too much noise.
It seemed to take too long—though it only took a few minutes—for him to reach the clearing. He knew he could never have found it on his own, not when the forest was so dense in this area and he was obviously deeper into the woods than he had ever been before. Yes, the TARDIS was definitely good.
Through an opening in the trees, he could see people. No monsters or ghosts, just people. But they were weirdos. They had their faces painted with runes Dean didn't recognize (though Bobby probably could), and one of them was wearing what looked like ancient ceremonial robes. There was a fire growing in the center of the clearing, and beyond that, Dean could just make out two figures tied to trees.
Dean swore under his breath. This was not good. This had all the makings of a human sacrifice ritual. He had to get them out of there!
Dean snuck around the perimeter of the camp, careful not to make any sudden moves, careful not to make any sounds. The fire was still growing, and most of the people seemed to be gathering around the priest guy for some kind of pre-ceremony. Good. He could take advantage of their distraction.
Finally, he reached the first tree—and it wasn't the Doctor.
"Who are you?" Dean whispered in muted surprise.
The man gave him a glance over . . . and then another one and smiled the way Dean usually smiled at a pretty girl. "Hi," he said. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness."
Dean blinked. "Uh," he said stupidly. This was not the reception he'd expected.
"Jack!" That was Rose's voice. "Tell me you're not flirting with the people who captured us."
"Rose!" Dean couldn't help breathing out a sigh of relief. "Sorry I got you into this."
"What?"
But the guy named Jack just grinned at Dean in that same uncomfortable way. "It's Plaid Guy."
"Name's Dean," he muttered, bending down to untie the ropes around Jack's wrists. He glanced down at his shirt and grimaced. Plaid Guy. Definitely not on the list of names he'd like associated with him.
"Nice to meet you, Dean," Jack said.
Dean kept his gaze on the ropes, since he could just hear the smirk in the guy's voice, and he really didn't have time for it.
Finally, they came loose. "Get your feet," he commanded, rushing over to where Rose was. He didn't know how much longer they had before all those weirdos came out of their meeting to kill them all, and he wasn't wasting time.
"You left me with that girl," Rose said. She didn't sound like she was accusing him, just that she was annoyed.
"Yeah, sorry about that," Dean said. Her ropes were a little harder to untie. He took out his pocketknife to work on them. "If I'd've known she was the bad guy, I wouldn't have done that."
"Who are you, anyway? You said you knew about the Doctor," Rose continued.
"Can't tell you that," Dean said with a huge grin. "It'd ruin the surprise for you later!"
"Time travel," Rose muttered.
"You said it." Dean grinned triumphantly as the ropes finally came undone. "But hey, this is a first for me. Got to talk with the TARDIS and meet new companions." He jerked his head in Jack's direction. "I was starting to think the Doctor only took pretty girls with him."
Rose turned bright pink.
"I'm insulted!" Jack said.
"Oh, shut up Jack; you're pretty too," Rose said.
"And don't you forget it."
Dean grinned. He'd forgotten that this was what life was like with the Doctor. The constant banter, the witticisms, the affectionate teasing. It was easy to fall back into.
But he shook his head. "Flirt later, you two. We've got to get out of here."
"Is that a promise?" Jack asked.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Where'd you pick this one up, Doc?" he muttered under his breath. Then, he grinned in triumph when Rose's ropes came undone, and he stood up. He noticed that Jack was also standing now, and he came around the tree to look Rose square in the face and get to work on the ropes around her ankles.
"Why'd you come after us, anyway?" Rose asked.
"Cuz I like you," he grinned out of the corner of his mouth. "And because that's my job. I'm a hunter. I take down bad guys like this all the time."
"Hate to break it to you, kid, but this is more than a bear hunt," Jack said.
Dean opened his mouth to respond—then decided better when he saw the way the leaves were spinning. It definitely wasn't the wind. Something was happening. Something was coming. "Less talk, more running," he said. The ropes came undone around Rose's feet, and he helped her stand.
The wind was more insistent now. Like it was trying to hold them back. He could hear shouts behind him, running footsteps. "Come on!" he shouted over the wind, pulling Rose's arm, but in the next second, the wind had ripped her away from him.
He looked over his shoulder in time to see Jack go flying, pinned against a tree, and wondered briefly why he hadn't lost his footing yet when the leaves in the wind started to swirl closer together, compressing into a shape of some kind.
He squinted against the tears in his eyes, leaned against the wind, and then closed his eyes for just a moment when the wind was too intense.
When he could see again, there was a wolf three times the size of any normal wolf standing with its bared teeth just inches from his nose.
