Author's note: Holy shit, guys. Sorry this has taken so long, but what with this whole Coronavirus thing, my schedule's been all out of whack. Either way, here's another chapter for y'all. I'm pretty sure it's a little shorter than usual, but I figured you guys would prefer to have something now instead of waiting. Either way, I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or Supernatural

Chapter 17: We Touched Down Mid-Apocalypse

It'd taken a long time to figure out what in this bare room could be used as a weapon, but eventually I settled on the lightbulb and got Sam up on my shoulders so he could unscrew it. I mean, it sucked that we couldn't see jackshit, but at least we had something to fight with next time Shelese showed up, however pitiful a weapon it might be. Once we had it, we just sat there in the dark, waiting for our chance.

"I told you we should've left last night." I said.

Even though I couldn't see Sam, I could practically feel him glaring at me. "You really wanna fight right now?

"No. I just wanted to say I told you so."

"Well, congratulations. You were right, I was wrong. Happy?"

"Very."

Before Sam got the chance to respond, we were silenced by the sound of footsteps coming towards us. Without a word, we stationed ourselves on either side of the door.

The second Shelese walked in, I jumped on her, wrapping an arm around her neck, and smashed the lightbulb over her head. She stumbled, startled and disoriented, and I decided to make use of the opening by ramming the jagged remains of the lightbulb into her throat. Blood poured out over my hands as I twisted it for good measure and tore it free. I took a step back, allowing her to fall to the ground, and let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"All things considered, that could've gone a lot worse." I led Sam out into a dimly lit hallway. "Imagine if she'd turned me into a rat or something."

"It would've been an improvement." Sam said without missing a beat, and we headed off down the hallway together. There were doors to other cells like ours, but they were all empty, and before long, we came to the bottom of a rickety staircase with a trapdoor at the top.

"Do you think we're still in the same house?" Sam asked.

I shrugged. "I don't see why not. Wouldn't be very convenient to move us." I went to start up the stairs, but Sam grabbed my arm to stop me.

"Dean, we can't just go around making noise."

"Why not? The bitch is dead."

"Isn't she supposed to have a husband?"

That was fair. Just because we had yet to see the guy didn't mean he didn't exist. "Okay, then we'll run around being quiet."

Sam rolled his eyes but didn't argue, so we carefully made our way up the stairs and through the trap door. We came out in the pantry.

"Awesome." I grabbed a pack of Oreos off the shelf and headed out into the rest of the house, eating them and ignoring Sam's protests behind me. I was hungry, damn it, and I didn't much care who the food originally belonged to.

We found the witch-bitch's husband in the front room, sleeping in a recliner. "Oh, this is just too damn easy." I said, looking down at him and sticking another Oreo in my mouth.

Sam shifted uneasily. "Dean, maybe we should just leave him alone."

"That's ridiculous. Here, hold these." I handed him the Oreos, grabbed the fire poker, and kicked the guy in the leg. "Up and at em, asshole."

He jerked awake, looking up at us in surprise. "You must be Sam and Dean." he said after a moment. "I was wondering where you and Shelese got off to."

"Don't play dumb." I said coolly, raising the fire poker to be level with his throat.

The guy's eyes widened when he caught sight of the blood coating my hand. "Where's my wife?"

"She's dead."

For a moment, he just sat there in stunned silence. "Why would you do that?"

My eyes narrowed. "I think you know."

"You don't understand." The man glanced around desperately as if expecting someone to come to his rescue. "She said she'd kill me if I tried to stop her."

"You're telling me that you care more about your own damn skin than who knows how many kids, and you expect me to feel bad for you?" I said in disgust.

"She would've killed them anyway. At least this way she's got one less murder on her hands."

For a second, I just stood there staring at him. "I don't even know how to respond to that."

XxXxX

"Did you really have to drag him all the way downstairs and lock him in one of the cells? You'd already knocked him out." Sam said as we made our way down the street.

"Yes."

"You do realize he'll probably starve and die."

"Serves him right, the enabling bastard."

"Dean, c'mon."

"Look, Sammy, whatever your opinions may or may not be of my decisions regarding El Douche back there, it ain't gonna change what's already been done. Besides, we've got bigger things to worry about."

"I guess. Where do you think they'd keep the Doctor to wait for trial?"

"Sammy, I think he's already had a trial."

"What?" Sam stopped walking, so I did too, turning to face him. "What the hell makes you think that? It's only been a few days; there hasn't been time."

"Dude, take a look around." I gestured to our surroundings. "It was probably somewhere around late February or early March when we got here, but it obviously isn't anymore. Judging off the plants and the weather, I'd say it's more like May; I think we were down and out for the count a lot longer than we thought we were."

"Shit." Sam muttered, turning a full 180 to get a look at everything. "That's just beautiful. What're we supposed to do now?"

"Get ahold of the local prison, see if the Doctor's around, and go from there."

XxXxX

"Hello?"

"Hi. Is this the Colorado State Penitentiary?"

"Yes."

"Awesome. You wouldn't happen to have an inmate by the name of Winchester?"

"Several."

"One that's in for child abuse?"

"Yes. Tall skinny guy, brown hair?"

"That's the one. My brother and I would like to put in a request to come visit him."

"Is this supposed to be a joke?"

"Uh… no."

"In that case, I'm sorry, but we're not allowing visitations at this time."

"What? Why?"

"Because of Coronavirus, kid, use your brain."

"I'm sorry, 'cause of what now?"

"What, are you living under a rock? Dangerous worldwide pandemic that shut down planet Earth? Social distancing? Quarantine? Any of that ringing any bells?"

"Uh… right, yeah, sure. Sorry to bother you."

I hung up the payphone and headed back over to the park bench I'd left Sammy on, reading some magazine he'd found in a trash can.

"Any luck?" he asked as I sat down next to him.

"Not exactly. Apparently Earth is closed today."

"I'm actually not all that surprised." Sam put his magazine in my lap. "Here, read this."

"'2020 is Out to Get Us'?"

"Just read it."

"Okay, okay." I picked up the magazine to get a better look and started reading. "'At this point, it seems like 2020 is out to get us'. Well, that's chipper. 'In the last few months, we have seen an unprecedented number of catastrophic events. So far, we've narrowly avoided World War 3, we've had Kobe Bryant's death in a helicopter crash -' Do you have any idea who that is?"

Sam shook his head. "No clue."

"Huh. Okay, then. '- Australia burning to the ground -' Yikes '- the Covid-19 pandemic, and recently there's been talk of 'Murder Hornets', 2-inch-long hornets that behead bees and can kill a human with single sting'." I closed the magazine with a low whistle. "Damn, Sammy. Looks like we touched down mid-apocalypse. At least that explains what the prison dude was saying."

"What d'you mean?"

"He said they're not allowing visitations 'cause of 'Coronavirus'. I guess Covid-19 is the official name."

"Well, that's great. How're we supposed to get in the prison now?"

"Don't worry: I'll think of something." I said with a self-satisfied smirk.

Author's afterthought: Please review, guys!