The Water
Ch 10
A/N: So just as an FYI, this is set a little after 7.03, in (if you couldn't tell) a major AU. Don't want anyone to be confused about Bobby being around, or Bobby's house being around, or anything like that.
"We aren't getting anywhere." Dean glared at his computer screen as though he wanted to punch a hole in it if it continued to be unhelpful. "All I can find on this 'man in a blue box' are whack jobs and some skinny British singer nerds."
"I found something." Dean looked at Sam skeptically. The younger Winchester wore a rather smug grin. He threw a dusty leather journal to his brother, "Page twelve." Dean leafed through the first few pages, finding the passage Sam was talking about.
The Doctor is an enigmatic figure who can be traced back to the beginning of time, if not further. He has worn many different faces, though it is unclear if he is a shifter, or a creature capable of possessing other humans. The simplest method of telling if the Doctor is present is if one sees his blue telephone box, which appears whenever he does. Often, his presence heralds some sort of calamity, though sources cannot seem to agree on whether he causes the disasters or attempts to prevent them.
He is often seen in the company of others who, appear to be human. These could be thralls, willing accomplices, or others belonging to the same species as him. Most of these companions appear to be from the United Kingdom, where most of his activity takes place. If he is seen, caution should be exercised in confronting this ancient, clever and dangerous being.
"Disasters. Fuck. Do you think this guy could be involved with the Leviathans?" The slimy creatures had been fairly quiet since he had killed Amy (luckily Sam hadn't figured it out yet, and if Dean had anything to say about it he never would), and they were still a somewhat touchy subject. They had only made their way into conversation once or twice. Castiel, not at all. Dean told himself he would talk about him eventually, but he still got a little riled up whenever he thought too hard about the trench coat in the back of the Impala.
Besides, if he brought it up, Sam would try and get him to talk about his feelings. He didn't feel anything for the angel. Other than pissed. Nothing at all. There was no way he was just trying to cover up for anything. It was then that he realized Sam was talking, and that eventually staring in the moose's general direction and nodding at random intervals wouldn't work anymore, so he listened more closely.
"-I don't know. Dean, are you paying attention?"
"Totally Sammy. So, this is another Leviathan case?" Fuck. Sam had been trying to get his brother's mind off the Leviathans. He didn't even know why he bothered, though. The two of them were practically big bad magnets, so avoiding the creepy crawlies on purpose was pretty much hopeless from the start. The only time they ever managed to get away from monsters of Leviathan caliber was when they were looking for them.
"Do we know anything else?"
"Umm, yeah. Just a few more reports of a similar-looking pair of Hunters showing up and taking care of Leviathans around here. Oh yeah, and we also got these pictures." Sam turned his laptop around and showed Dean the duo. Privately, he thought they looked harmless, and that worried him. All the worst creatures looked harmless.
"Guess we'd better head out then." Sam nodded, picking up his empty beer and taking it to the kitchen. Bobby was there, so he gave him a quick rundown of the situation before going upstairs to pack his few possessions.
When they were throwing their things in the trunk, Sam noticed a folded bit of tan cloth. For a moment, he thought about mentioning it to his brother, but instead he just brushed his fingers against the fabric and wondered what he would do if he heard the familiar sound of wings behind him.
"I fail to see how a sweatervest could be of a low temperature. That seems to defeat the purpose." The Doctor chuckled.
"No, no, no. That's not what cool means. Well, it is, but not right now. I mean cool as in hip." Cas blinked, so the Doctor tried again.
"Awesome."
Another blink.
"Stylish."
"Oh. Why did you not just say so?"The previous chuckle turned into a full on laugh, and it took the Doctor a few moments to calm down. Cas was wearing a look that very clearly stated he did not appreciate being laughed at, nor understand why it was happening.
The two of them had been travelling back and forth in the time stream for a few months, and the Doctor was finding he actually really liked the angel. Not in the same "let me show you the universe" way he liked the companions, or the "you're my equal" way he liked River. He just liked him. The Timelord imagined that his relationship with Cas was what having a normal friend would have been like, if not for the fact that being the only member of his species typically ruined such a relationship.
Their relationship was further improved by the fact that Cas's mind had almost completely pulled itself back together. The first few weeks had been slow going, filled with seizure-like episodes and daymares, but after a while Cas had remembered everything that could be triggered by everyday activities. Now, the only time new information uncovered itself was after Hunts.
The Doctor didn't like killing things, had been rather forceful in his insistence that violence was not the answer…up until that point. Hunting was disturbingly easy to fall into and, even if Cas took care of about ninety-nine percent of the violence, it had taken a while before his pacifism had accepted the situation. Then he was confronted with a pair of Leviathans making a meal of a room filled with disabled children, and he had managed to swallow his discomfort. That was two and a half months ago. Now, they were sitting in the TARDIS after getting rid of a particularly nasty group of the things, and he was trying to get Cas to understand his fashion choices. All of a sudden, the angel went completely still.
"Stop here." It was not a request, but a command. The Doctor tried to figure out where "here" would be. North Dakota, 2012. Not so bad. Given the urgency in Cas' voice, the Doctor thought the stop would be worth it. He pulled a few levers, praying that the TARDIS would decide that it was worth their time, and sent the machine to a screeching halt.
"Okay, what's this about?" Cas didn't answer. Instead, the Doctor had a very sudden urge to look down. When his gaze went back up, Cas was gone.
'What are you doing?' River asked.
'You'll see.' Cas could feel River pouting, but she kept quiet. They were the dimly lit hallway of what appeared to be an apartment complex. Cas walked purposefully down the hall. A light went out, completely independent of him. The angel doubted the owner of the place ever bothered to change them. Or fix anything else, considering the state of the place.
The door to apartment 333 was smashed off its hinges. Cas stepped carefully over a pile of rubble, his eyes sweeping left, then right. It looked empty. He moved quietly through the front room, picking a box of laundry soap up off the washer as he passed by it, and entered the only bedroom.
It was, quite distinctly, not empty. Between the scantily clad woman and the man she was strangling, it would have been quite difficult to miss them. The woman's (just a girl, really, she was probably no more than twenty) jaw unhinged, and several sets of sharp teeth appeared. She appeared to have already done a number on her…companion, judging by the blood coated liberally over the room, and was finally moving in for the kill.
Instead, she started sizzling as an entire box of borax hit her in the back of the head. Then, her head was no longer attached to her body. Then her body was on the floor. Cas eyed the dismembered body part with disgust and put it on the pillow before turning his attention to the man.
He was dying. Cas could feel that easily, and there was nothing the angel could do about it. Something about the black goo seemed to block his powers, as he had discovered many times during the past few months when he tried to heal someone, only to watch them die instead. Cas didn't like how that made him feel.
He wasn't here because of the Leviathan, though. One of the monsters wouldn't have been enough to attract his attention out in the vast, cold expanse that was the vortex. No. He was tugged there by a bright spot of light at the edge of his vision. He knew exactly what it meant. To be honest, he had been rather hesitant to follow it. Now, though, the guilt he would have felt was lessened.
"Tell me, do you believe in God?" Cas asks. The man doesn't speak aloud, instead opting to reach up and hold the crucifix around his neck tightly. A yes then.
"Would you consent to being the vessel of an angel of the Lord?" The man looks confused for a second, but then he squints at Cas, and he must have already been piercing the veil because an expression of comprehension settles on his face and he nods. Cas closes his eyes. There is a vague sensation of movement, and when he wakes up he is on the bed in the body of the man.
"Thank you." Cas whispers, though he knows his vessel's soul has already passed on, and begins to work. Though it would have been impossible to clean out the body from the outside, as its sole occupant Castiel gained a far greater ability to remove the impurities within it, and he did so as quickly as possible. Then, he helped a rather confused River Song to her feet and teleported back to the TARDIS.
The Doctor jumped when he saw a strange, ratty looking thirty-something enter the TARDIS, one hand on River's arm.
A/n: So the Winchesters and Cas'll probably meet up soon, and then there won't be too long before this story is over.
