I own nothing. Least of all this.

1:2

Light.

Dark.

Dark in Light.

Light in Dark.

Making, Unmaking, Remaking.

Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A...

STOP.

Pain.

Fire. Ice. Rage.

I groaned.

Everything hurt.

Captain Jack Sparrow's voice seemed to echo in my head: "I hope you all saw that, because I will not be doing that again."

Never had I empathized more with a character than I did in that moment with Rory Williams. Those Cracks were nothing to sneeze at.

Wait..

I fell through a Crack. A Crack, infamous for obliterating anything and everything It ever touched. How had I not been erased from existence?

I forced my eyes open. Orange. The… sky, ceiling, whatever you call it was orange. And vaguely shimmery. Hell was still a possible landing site then. I needed to see more. My body protested most vigorously as it was forced into a sitting position. I threw a hand out to steady myself, and found..a handrail? Somehow, I doubt Hell has safety railing. My eyes darted around the rest of the..room.

I knew this place.

I turned my head so fast you could have heard the air crack.

A console gleamed behind me.

HIS console.

This was the TARDIS.

The 11th Doctor's TARDIS.

And I was in it.

You would have thought the floor was lava from how fast I moved.

It was all there. Every button, every switch every lever (yes, even the wibbly one). I yanked over the screen.

And there It was, right where It should be. Or, rather, not: The date, clearly reading June 26th, 2010, and superimposed over it, the Crack. The Crack through which I had, presumably, fallen.

Still, I had to make absolutely sure. I rushed to the doors (those beautiful doors), or at least I tried to. My legs still felt like they'd been fed through a wood-chipper. Pain notwithstanding, I made it to the door, and opened it to find…

VOID.

This was the Void.

Of course it was.

"Looks like its Hell after all."

I slapped my hand over my mouth. That had most definitely NOT been my voice. I cleared my throat. Maybe it had just been the echo. I tried again.

"Testing, one, two, three.."

Nope, still sounded like Mark Shephard. I ventured a look down. No doubt about it, these jeans one-hundred percent used to be longer. I slammed the door shut again, then raced back to the console. I needed a mirror, a reflective surface, something..

Glass floor. DUH!

My eyes looked down into… green ones?

My hair was still the same (my best feature), but my face..

Jensen Ackles' double was staring back at me.

"Bollocks."

Ooo, I liked the sound of that. Very Crowley. Crowley…

I had the looks of Dean Winchester. I had the voice of Crowley. And I was literally standing in Hell.

First a chuckle. Then a wheeze. Then, death by asphyxiation due to the inability to get a breath in between laughs. Okay, it wasn't literal death, but it sure relieved stress like death does.

When my brain finally decided the irony was low enough to let me think properly again, I immediately tried to piece together exactly what had happened. I imagine you could have seen steam coming out of my ears as my mind raced for at least some semblance of an explanation.

"Right then. Let's take this point by point."

Tap, tap went my feet as I paced.

"One: committed a self-sacrificing act in the manner of one Dean Winchester. Two: fell into Crack immediately recognizable as the one the Doctor dealt with. Three: somehow managed to avoid being annihilated by said Crack and arrive in, apparently, the Doctor's universe. Four: my voice and appearance have been changed to match those of two of my all-time favorite actors." I briefly halted my pacing. "How'm I doing so far, Sexy?"

I was not expecting the happy, congratulatory, and extremely LOUD noise the TARDIS responded with.

After I reinserted my heart back into my chest (no small feat), I managed a small smile.

"Thanks Old Girl. Glad to know at least one person thinks I'm doing alright."

The TARDIS responded with a very loud *BLAT* which clearly meant "Debatable."

I shrugged. She had a point. I wouldn't call most of my last 24 hours "alright". Could be worse, though. At least I ended up looking like Dean Winchester, the absolute hottest dude I.. knew.

I KNEW.

The Crack. It unmade things, I knew that for certain, but since I was clearly very much alive, what if It had… remade me as well? Only one way to check. I placed my hand over the left side of my chest. One heartbeat. Then I place my other hand over the right side. Two heartbeats. Pounding in perfect rhythm. That proved it.

I had fallen through that Crack thinking about a great many things, but two in particular: Supernatural, and Doctor Who. And now here I was; a stunt double for Jensen Ackles, with a promising career as a voice-actor for Mark Shephard. Oh, and I was a Time Lord.

"Bollocks."