A/N: Part three is here! I hadn't written anything for this fic in a while, but tonight I sat down and wrote this chapter, start to finish (granted, it's only 2,200 words, but it is 5am, so~). Hope you like and please review :)
Words: 2251 (this part)
Summary: Amy and the Doctor, now with added Winchester.
Sometimes Amy wonders whether anyone on Earth misses her, or if they've all forgotten her completely. There's Rory, of course, but she tries not to think about him. Rory, sick of dying, decided about a month ago that he needed a break badly enough to leave her to roam space without him. Apart from the Doctor Rory is all she has and it's strange not having him with her anymore. She feels quite alone sometimes, because her sole travelling companion has by now become so used to having her around that it's almost as if he's forgotten how much he needs her- at least, that's how it seems. For all she knows he's actually sick of her.
She's definitely missing something, she thinks. There's a vital chunk missing from her memory, something she's forgetting. Maybe he's not sick of her. Maybe he's avoiding her a little.
Every now and then she sees him caressing his chest, right over his hearts. It's strange, but she hasn't questioned him about it yet. The look on his face when he does it is so sad that she's not really sure she wants to know.
Right now he seems okay, though, if a little shaken by what they'd both just seen. He suffered what she saw as a moment of madness by disappearing into the house again, carrying his sonic screwdriver. She'd uttered a little shriek and called out his name, and he'd calmly called back, "stay there Amy."
She listens to him for once. This is a far cry from their usual planet hopping adventures but as horrible as everything is right now, it feels nice to be back on Earth. The porch she's sitting on smells of wet wood and moss, and it reminds her of her childhood home. She can feel the damp seeping into her skirt, but she doesn't really mind; she's too busy worrying about the Doctor and looking out at the field of dead grass in front of her, over which they just ran to get here. Strands of her hair, now longer than ever, blow around her face. She doesn't move to brush them away as she usually would.
He appears in the doorway and she jumps a little. She looks up, but he isn't looking at her. He's focused intently on his screwdriver and his frown is deepening by the second. She nudges his leg and says "Doctor?"
He looks down, finally, and smiles a sad smile.
She shifts over a little as he sits a little clumsily on the porch beside her, and waits while he tries to get his thoughts in order.
"I had a little look around... I can't quite tell what did this to that poor woman, but it's not anything I've seen before." He sighs, long and tired, and adds, "And that's saying something."
"Okay," she whispers. He puts a friendly hand on her knee and smiles at her again.
"This is beyond my expertise, Pond. I would completely understand if you protested us staying on this case."
Suddenly she can't look at him, and there are tears welling up in her eyes. It's stupid, she thinks, but she's so glad that he still cares about her opinion. It's probably killing him inside to think that they might leave this mystery unsolved, because when has he ever done that? Never. He's the Doctor, healer of the universe, a force against evil, bad dreams, and corruption. He's the one who shows up at your door with his screwdriver and his psychic paper, gets you to trust him and fixes all the bad around you, makes you love him, makes you want him never to leave you. That's how Amy feels, and it's all spilling out of her in a hot gush of tears. She blinks hard and swipes at her eyes, but they keep coming, and he pulls her into a one-armed hug.
She sniffs. "I thought you said we had to stick this out."
"That was before..." he trails off, and she nudges him again. "Like I said, there's something very, very wrong here. I'm very old, Amy, and I've been," he waves his arms around, "everywhere. Well, not literally, but you know what I mean. I've been around the block, and it's a very long block. It's been non-stop. Maybe this is the time for a rest, hm?"
Suddenly, oddly, she feels the need to convince him to stay. It's completely crazy, but she can't bear to see him give up.
"You'll never stop wondering though, if you don't do this. You'll never stop thinking about what you could have done."
He opens his mouth to speak and she cuts in on him, "And didn't you say the TARDIS bought you here? Doesn't she always put you right where you need to be?"
He sighs. It's true. He leans back against the wall and closes his eyes.
There's a flash of white light and a horrible scream.
His eyes fly open and he jumps quickly to his feet, scaring the heck out of Amy.
"What is it? What's wrong?" she says, standing and stumbling a little in her haste.
"Nothing! Nothing's wrong Pond." He spins around on the balls of his feet, apparently deciding which way to go. The decision's easy- to her right is the town, to the left is a thickly wooded hill. He runs off to the right, and she follows. Of course she follows.
The outskirts of town are dimly lit. Amy follows ten feet behind the Doctor as he waves his screwdriver around, the green light making trails against the night. She finds herself following it like a moth attracted to a flame. She's barely thinking about where to put her feet and that's why she stumbles up the curb, falling heavily on her butt. She lets out a grunt of pain and he looks around, screwdriver still singing.
"What are you doing on the ground?"
"Nothing," she says, a little reproachfully.
"I think we're close," he says, exasperated. "Can you please get up?"
She gets to her feet , wincing at the pain in her tailbone. She's brushing herself down when the Doctor tells her to shush.
"I didn't say anything," she says indignantly, and he shushes her again. She stops to listen, and realises that there's a distant purr coming out of the darkness.
It becomes a roar.
The Doctor jumps onto the curb and Amy scurries back as a sleek black car whisks past them, travelling so quickly it's turned the corner before she's really registered what just happened. It's heading in the direction of the house.
Not a single word passes between them. They're running back in the direction they'd just come without a moment's hesitation. Weird though it may be, Amy knows exactly where that car's heading. Something like this happens this late at night in a sleepy town in Texas and she's to believe that whoever it was in that car was a boy racer? Nope, not a chance.
They reach the house and yes, sure enough there's a black car parked outside. It's not as sleek as Amy had first thought, though. The speed it was going at had masked the angles of its design, though the body is as shiny as it had looked going 100k an hour. It looks well-loved. She looks at the licence plate and sees that it's from Kansas, and on the grill above the plate is the emblem of the Chevrolet brand.
As she's looking she realises something. She grabs the Doctor's arm. He's stopped to see what she's looking at and is training his screwdriver on the car. "Seems clean..." he mutters to himself.
"Doctor," she says. "What if whoever's in there right now is the one who did that to that woman?"
"Can't be!" he says cheerily. "The car's clean, unlike the house. Come on!"
He pulls her along with him and she releases her hold, choosing to trust him.
He pulls the door of the house open and marches right inside. They can hear voices... voices! Two people, at least. Her better instincts are telling her that this is probably a very bad idea, but she follows him anyway, walking into the room with the dead woman still lying on the floor in time to see a tall, muscular man with long hair throwing water in the Doctor's face.
He's spluttering and coughing and she can see him getting a bit angry. She catches the man with the canteen turning to his shorter companion and saying what sounds like, "Not a demon."
The short one nods and looks at her, then looks her up and down. She finds herself crossing her arms and looking at him with an expression she hasn't used in years. She never has to worry about leering with the Doctor. "Who are you?" she says.
"I could ask you the same myself," drawls the leerer.
She takes a closer look at the two of them. The one with the canteen, as well as tall and muscled, is dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans. His chest, she notices, is quite wide, and his nose is small and pert. The other is smaller and paler and has short hair, freckles and a larger nose and, she notices, rather full lips. He's also wearing plaid and jeans. She looks fleetingly down at herself. Plaid.
The Doctor speaks up. "I'm the Doctor, and this is Amy. Who are you?"
"I'm Sam," says the tall one, "and this is my brother Dean."
"Older brother," says Dean, and Sam rolls his eyes.
"So, uh," says Sam, "what are you two doing here?"
"We were here first," says Amy.
"Yes," says the Doctor. "We were. We flew here and found her." He points at the woman but doesn't so much as glance in her direction. Sam and Dean look at each other.
"Oh... kay." Dean looks sceptical, to say the least. He perks up a little when his brother mutters something to his that sounds to Amy like "test them?"
"Good idea." He pulls out a silver knife.
Amy jumps and the Doctor puts up his hands. "That's a knife," he says.
"Yep," says Dean, tossing it into the air and catching it deftly, watching Amy flinch. "We need to make sure you're not a monster."
"What?" says the Doctor.
"You know, like a shapeshifter or a werewolf or a ghoul or something creepy like that."
"Right, of course. Is that why you threw water in my face?"
"It was holy water. That's how we know you're not a demon."
"Did you say werewolf?" Amy says incredulously.
"Yep," says Dean. Amy closes her mouth and continues to stare at the knife. The presence of the dead woman weighs on her mind more and more as she watches the silver glint faintly in Dean's expert fingers. She attempts to speak, but finds only a whisper. Clearing her throat, she tries again.
"Can we please go somewhere without... you know..." Amy trails off, but the way her eyes travel to her left makes the meaning of her hesitation clear.
"Sure," says Sam. He gestures towards the door and they all move to the room across the hall; the kitchen.
Dean heaves a heavy bag onto the countertop and pulls out a variety of things, one of which, Amy notes, is a gun. It's a small one, but still a gun.
"Woah, why have you got that? Are you going to kill us?" she says, a little panicked.
"I hope not," says Dean shortly, and continues pulling things out.
Amy's fears aren't assuaged at all by the time the two strangers have gone through their rituals, but she's considerably more confused. She's been submitted to holy water, that silver knife and several other things before the two of them conclude that she's human, and so is the Doctor. He, of course, prattles on the entire time asking questions about what this and that is for and what new species they've ruled out. He's accustomed to a lot of things, but ghouls and shapeshifters aren't part of that.
"So," he says, "tell me who you are."
"We're hunters."
Sam shoots a sharp look at his brother that Amy guesses means they aren't usually this forward with strangers.
"Hunters."
"Yeah, we hunt stuff."
"And save people," says Dean.
"Brilliant, me too!" says the Doctor. Dean coughs in surprise. Sam's eyebrows rise considerably. Since they've been honest with him the Doctor decides to return the favour.
"Amy and I travel through space in time in my TARDIS, rescuing people from aliens."
"Are you crazy?" says Dean.
"No, are you?"
"Not the last time I checked."
"What don't you believe about what I just said?"
"Oh man, I'd say 80% of it."
"How are aliens any less believable than monsters?"
"He's got a point," says Sam.
Dean huffs breath out of his nose in a rush, suddenly looking very exasperated. "Look man, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't screw with us. We're here on a job and you don't want to get in our way. There're lives at stake here."
"There's been a life lost already," says the Doctor, pointing in the direction of the room across the hall. "You're doing an admirable job."
"I don't need this. Could you just leave?" Sam folds his arms.
"Nope, no can do."
The kitchen is quiet for a second, before the Doctor pipes up again.
"Wanna see my time machine?"