Author's note: Hey, everybody! Sorry it's been awhile, but you know how it goes. It was the holidays, and I took a break from pretty much anything that involved any amount of individual thought. But it's a new year now, so it's time to get back in the swing of things. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. It was kind of tricky for me to write, I'm not sure exactly what my problem was, so if there's stuff wrong with it, I apologize in advance.

Disclaimer: Neither Supernatural or Doctor Who is mine, I'm just having a little fun.

Chapter 12: Quae est infernum facitis?!

"It's really dirty out here." Sam said as we made our way through the crowded streets of Rome.

"Isn't it great?" I smirked and kicked up some of the dust at him.

"Dean!"

"What? Scared to get a little dirty?"

"Boys." the Doctor interrupted. "You're going to miss things if you don't pay attention. Do you see where we are?"

"Oh." So maybe I'd been a little too busy kicking dirt at my brother to notice the Colosseum right in front of my face. These things do happen every now and then.

"Awesome." Sam said breathlessly, staring up at it. He's such a little geek, but he's my little geek, and you've gotta love him.

I looked around at all the people who were leaving the street and flooding in through the entrance of the Colosseum. "So what's going on in there?"

"Gladiators." the Doctor replied.

"Awesome! Let's go take a look!"

"Boys, wait!" the Doctor called after us, but Sam and I were already darting away through the crowd. I grabbed onto Sam's wrist to make sure he didn't get lost and up into the Colosseum we went, jostled and shoved around by the crowd.

I had no idea where we were going, so I just ducked through the first opening I could find, and suddenly we were back in the blazing sun, on the first row of ancient stone bleachers, looking out over the dusty arena.

"Best seats in the house, Sammy-boy." I smirked proudly, leading him right up to the edge and looking down. "We'll have a great view of all the action from here."

"You know, when I say wait, you should wait." the Doctor said, walking up behind us.

"Sorry." Sam's face flushed crimson.

"It's alright. I just worry: there's crazy people out there, and it's difficult to keep you safe if you keep taking off."

"Sorry, Doc." I echoed Sam, offering him my most innocent smile. "Just got excited."

"Yes, you seem to do that a lot." the Doctor said seriously, but I knew he wasn't really upset with us: he was smiling with a little too much fond exasperation for that.

Throwing him one last mischievous smirk, I turned back to face the arena in time to watch the tallest, buffest guy I'd ever seen walk out into the bright sun to thunderous applause. "Oh, I can't wait to see who he's fighting. This is gonna be epic."

"You know, the whole gladiator thing is actually pretty horrible." Sam pointed out.

I glanced at him, confused. "What d'you mean? It's a badass death match. What's not to like?"

"It's barbaric, Dean. I mean, think about it. It's not like they volunteered. They're being forced to fight. Some of them have to kill their friends. I mean, imagine how you would feel if you and I were kidnapped, kept apart, treated brutally, then shoved in an arena and told to go all sudden death on each other for some emperor's entertainment."

I shrugged a little uncomfortably. "Well, when you put it like that…"

The crowd began booing and hissing as a boy who couldn't be more than fourteen walked out into the arena, looking utterly terrified and clutching a small sword and shield like they were a lifeline.

"He's the other guys' sword and shield dude, right?" I asked nervously. "Like an ancient caddie or something?"

"I'm afraid not." the Doctor said, vaguely disgusted as he looked down at the scene in front of him. "If I remember right, that boy was caught stealing food from an overly-important Roman citizen."

The big man smirked and began to advance on the kid - who looked way too much like Sammy for me to feel entirely comfortable - seconds away from ripping him to shreds.

"This is wrong." I said quietly. I couldn't just stand there and let it happen, I had to do something. My mind made up, I climbed over the little partial wall, dangling off by my hands.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?!" Sam shrieked at the same time that the Doctor shouted "Dean, stop!" They both moved to grab my hands, but it was too late: I'd already let go and dropped to the Colosseum floor, crouching as I hit to absorb the impact. My ankle still wasn't particularly overjoyed with me, but I'm good at working through a little pain.

"Dean, come back!" I heard Sam screaming over the indignant shouts of the crowd, but I ignored him, dashing across the arena and putting myself in between the kid and that giant friggin wall of muscle. I ripped the sword out of his hands and shoved him backwards, turning to face my by far larger opponent.

"Quae est infernum facitis?! Redde mihi eam, podex!" the kid screamed at me in Latin, but for some weird reason that I'm sure had something to do with the Doctor, I understood it in English. What the hell are you doing? Give it back, you asshole!

"Stop whining, I'm saving your ass." I snapped, but I was smiling. He was reminding me more and more of Sammy by the moment.

The kid seemed to realize that I meant business, and he wouldn't be able to stop me from doing whatever the hell it was I felt like, so he backed off to let me do my thing.

The ripped guy just stood there for a second, frowning at me in confusion, then shrugged and continued advanced, hefting his sword. Apparently he didn't care who he fought, as long as he got to fight.

I raised my sword to block his first swing, and I succeeded in not getting split from skull to sternum, but the force of it still knocked me to the ground, my weapon flying out of my hands. I rolled sideways, his sword slamming into the dirt inches from my face, and I scrambled to my feet. I dodged another swing, stepping into the guy's personal space to get rid of the advantage his long weapon gave him, and kicked him in the side of his knee, hard.

A crack of breaking bone split the air and the man's leg buckled. As he fell, he grabbed my arm and yanked me down to the ground with him. He punched me in the face hard - harder than I've ever been punched - and for a second, all I saw was sparks.

Before I had a chance to clear my head, the guy's hands wrapped tightly around my throat. I tried to get loose, but that just wasn't happening, my fingers scrabbling uselessly at his hands and darkness gathering at the edges of my vision. A burning ache spread from the center of my chest until it was all I could feel, and my ears somehow managed to pick out the sound of Sammy screaming my name.

Well, I guess there are worse ways to go.

I don't know how many pairs of hands were suddenly pulling on me, but there were a helluva lot of them. The minute I'd been yanked free of the gladiator's hands, I did my best to fight back against them, gasping for air. Who were these people, why where they grabbing me, what did they want from me, get the hell away…

"Dean. Dean, calm down." All the other hands let go, leaving just one set on my shoulders. "They were helping you, okay? They were helping; stop fighting."

The Doctor. I quite struggling and let him prop me up, breathing heavily in an attempt to feel like I was getting enough air. I was still really light-headed, and I wrapped my hand around the Doctor's wrist, trying to keep myself grounded. A group of Roman soldiers was leading the large gladiator off to an exit, arguing quietly. It must've been their hands I'd felt a moment before.

"C'mon, Dean. Let's go." The Doctor helped me to my feet and led me out of there, back to the door we'd come through when we'd first entered the Colosseum, where Sammy was waiting for us.

"Dean! Are you okay?" Sam asked a little frantically, trying to examine me for injury while we made our way down the streets of Rome, back to the dead-end alley we'd stashed the Tardis in. Everything was fairly quiet, since most of the people were at the Colosseum.

"Yeah, I'm fine." My voice was jacked on about nineteen different levels, and my throat hurt like a bitch, but other than that, I think I mostly managed to carry it off okay. "But I got one question, Doc. How the hell did you get me outta there?"

"Psychic paper, and you're lucky that worked. What were you thinking?"

"I had to do something." I wasn't sure how to explain my thought process, since I'm not sure if there even was much of one. "The whole thing was wrong. I couldn't just stand there.

"You could've." Sam pointed out as we turned the last corner into the alley where we'd left the Tardis, deceptively casual. "You could've just accepted that all this shit already happened and stayed up in the stands, nice and safe, like a sane person."

"You really think you could've stomached that, Sammy? 'Cause that's nice in theory, but let's be real. How long d'you think it woulda been before you decided you had to do something?"

Sam looked away, a little uncomfortable. "Whatever. That doesn't change that it was stupid. You almost died."

"But I didn't. I'm fine."

"Sam's right, Dean." the Doctor broke in. "That was by far too dangerous. Please don't do anything like that ever again."

I opened my mouth to argue my case, even though I had no idea what I was going to say exactly, but then I froze. Something was behind us, I could just feel it. I whipped around, and Sam and the Doctor did too. Neither of them asked why. It was obvious.

That friggin weeping angel was standing at the end of the alley.

It'd been so long since the last time we'd seen it that I'd started to think we'd ditched the stone freak, but I should've known better, doing what I do. When has anyone ever really managed to outrun any of the kinds of fugly sons of bitches that I hunt?

Slowly, we all backed into the Tardis. I slammed the door shut behind us, supremely grateful that we'd been so close to it by the time the angel caught up.

"Doesn't that asshole ever quit?" Sam snapped angrily.

"It doesn't matter." the Doctor said reassuringly. "He's out there, and we're in here. That's what counts. Now, why don't you boys go get in some normal clothes, and I'll find us a good restaurant for dinner?"

Sam and I nodded our assent and went and got changed.

By the time we got back out to the control room, the Doctor had selected a restaurant - some random local place in a suburb of Memphis, I forget the name - and had already teleported us there. Personally, I approved of the initiative. I was starving, and I didn't particularly care what I ate as long as it was food. I walked over to the door and threw it open.

I felt a cold hand close around my wrist, and the world around me disappeared.

Aw shit.

That stupidass angel had hitched a ride.

Author's afterthought: Review? Please?