He rapidly typed in Sam's coordinates, swivelled the Swizzlar and pushed down the lever. He stretched for a button on the far side, huffing out a laugh as the TARDIS purred. He fell back, stroking her smooth skin, but she rumbled haltingly.
"Something happen, Sexy?"
"More than something, darling." The Doctor stilled, the hairs on the back of his hand rising, and then peeked around his console.
A slim man in a dapper suit was standing near the doors, as if he had just popped in. Said man was smiling menacingly, his eyes gleaming as he looked at his TARDIS.
"Moriarty?" The Doctor took a step away from his console, grasping the handrail.
"How'd you guess?" Even from here, the Doctor could see Moriarty's dark eyes shine gleefully,
"Sam mentioned something about a scrawny neck." The Doctor slid his hand along the rail as he strolled across the platform, nearing Moriarty. "So you decided to pay me a visit?"
"Well, you don't make it easy but yes. I was dying from curiosity, you see." Moriarty touched the TARDIS wall, making the Doctor's fingers itch to shove him out the door but he doubted it would be that easy if he had managed to bypass the TARDIS defences.
"You have a beautiful machine, love what you've done with the place; I truly do, however it's not beneficial to me for it to exist. Almost dangerous for such a thing to carry on existing in fact." Moriarty's eyes slid over the Doctor who stood rigid.
"You can't destroy her. There's nothing strong enough."
"I figured." Moriarty rolled his eyes, walking over to the steps, "so then I wondered, what real threat can it pose if no one can drive it? If no-one owns either the key or knows of its location. Let it rot somewhere, right?" Moriarty raised his hands, making a helpless expression. "You see where that brings me, Doc?"
"I can assure you, it's not easy to kill a Timelord." The Doctor didn't budge as Moriarty stood toe to toe with him, in fact he might have even taken pleasure from the fact he was taller.
"Ooh, the confidence! I can feel it between my fingertips," Moriarty smiled, admiring his hands as they danced in the air. Only a second later, his expression dropped and he was considering the lights of the TARDIS, "though be careful, for a prideful man has an awful long way to fall."
The Doctor smiled, boosting himself to sit on the rail.
"I'm not prideful; I consider it a horrid trait. I am in fact very cautious, so cautious I made my vessel so that none could enter without my permission or a key and from my observations I have deducted you had neither." The Doctor watched as Moriarty shrugged, taking out a green apple.
"Hmm, but you didn't exactly take into account demons, did you? Nobody does. More useful than you think, especially the King." Moriarty took a bite; the Doctor could hear the crisp crunch as Moriarty turned away, walking around the console. The Doctor listened carefully as Moriarty tapped on the metal.
"But a cautious man always thinks ahead, thinks beyond their safety checks and makes more. So what if something bad got in anyway? Many generations have troubled over this problem, such a dastardly problem-"
"Haven't you wondered how you're going to die, Doctor?"
"I've wondered many things, like how you know my name. But first my story. How to overcome this issue. It was a Ms Tetler that came up with the solution. It was pretty slick. It required time but press a button and it would get you there."
"And where was that?" Moriarty stopped, in front of the steps, next to the Doctor. Apple still in hand.
"Here." The Doctor grabbed his apple.
"Wha-" The TARDIS doors burst open and the Doctor held onto the railing for life, his knees locked in position, gritting his teeth as his skin tightened. Moriarty had grabbed hold by the last second, but only a few fingers were between him and his doom.
"Hey, dipstick!" The Doctor grinned as Moriarty looked up at him; the Doctor threw the apple right at his head. Moriarty slipped, stumbling backwards and then falling. The doors closed.
"Hah!" The Doctor jumped down, grinning as he spun on one foot. He stopped casually, turning to face his old girl.
"No such thing as that button, you know."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sherlock and Sam sat at the table, well; Sherlock was slumped on the table after downing two glasses of whiskey Sam had served up. He had tried to leave so he could be by himself but Sam wouldn't let him.
"The Doctor should be here soon…" Sam mumbled, looking unsurely at Sherlock.
"I don't even care. I would kill both of you for a cigarette." Sherlock grumbled from beneath his arms.
"Lung cancer isn't going to help anyone!" Sam growled, he had noticed John slip the packet out of Sherlock's belongings. The thought made his heart heavy; it was his fault the man was gone. He shouldn't have gone to sleep, he'd been vulnerable.
"They probably wouldn't eat us if we had lung cancer." Sherlock muttered.
Sam just shook his head, a sigh sailing on his breath.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock."
Sherlock didn't reply, just kept his head buried beneath his arms. But Sam could still taste the acidic flavour of his cries, the way he had beat the wall with his weak hands as if by sheer will John would come back. It had taken an hour to get him to move from his collapsed form in the doorway, he had still been whispering no.
Sam almost fainted from relief when he heard the wheezing of the TARDIS landing in the next room.
"Doctor!" He shouted, running from his seat.
"Sam! Demon proofing! Now!" Sam stumbled as the Doctor roughly pushed him. Nevertheless he ran, picking up a spray can from the windowsill and a bag of salt. He handed the salt to the Doctor.
"Cover any entrances in." The Doctor grimaced, and then was off.
Meanwhile Sam started spraying.
….
Not long after, the TARDIS was demon proof, the devil traps adding a supernatural touch to the alien interior. Salt barricaded the entrances; the Doctor had even done the toilet. Sam approved.
"What happened?" Sam demanded when they were done.
"Doesn't matter," the Doctor waved Sam off as Sam narrowed his eyes, "later. First, what happened to John?"
Sam relented, "I left him alone to grab some sleep, and he must have gone in to check on the leviathan. I had diluted the drip so she wouldn't just die on us, but it must have been enough. She broke her bonds, and took John." Sam sucked in a breath. "I tried to stop her but she knocked me out."
The Doctor took a moment to absorb, and then patted Sam. It was awkward but it was sincere.
"It wasn't your fault."
Sam nodded, not completely certain but it wouldn't help to dwell.
"Now, where's Sherlock?"
"The kitchen."
The Doctor dashed to the kitchen. Sam followed after, minding their handiwork. They found Sherlock on the laptop.
"Sherlock, what are you doing? Stop, already!" Sam stomped round, about to take the laptop off him.
"We have to get out of here."
"What-" Sam stopped himself, Sherlock was on emails. There on the screen was an instragram picture of an apple. It said 'I O U'.
"It's the same apple." The Doctor murmured. "Right, get in the TARDIS right now."
Sherlock nodded, grabbing the laptop and moving. Sam ran to the weapons room, grabbing his rucksack and stuffing it with what he could.
He was running when the front door burst open.
"Sam! Don't leave, the funs just starting!" A shrill voice cried and then he was in the TARDIS and the engines whirled and Sam had never wanted to hurl so bad.
"How did he know where we were?" Sam shouted at the Doctor as he leaned heavily against the doors.
"He must have seen the co-ordinates!" The Doctor faced Sam, his own face screwed up in guilt and fear.
"He was in here?!" Sam took a step forward, then, realizing the reason for the demon proofing, he tidied up the salt with his foot quickly.
"He just briefly threatened to eat me or something, playing with his food I guess but then I threw him into a black hole." The Doctor screwed up his hair, pacing. "He knew my name, and there was something else. But it doesn't matter. Where's somewhere safe we can go?"
Sam was about to protest but he stopped himself as he saw Sherlock just quietly holding John's laptop. He was gripping it tightly to his chest; his fingers were white with strain and he looked distant. Sam could almost see him coming undone.
"I don't know." Sam took a deep breath, they were slowly being backed into a corner but they would fight their way out again, even if it ended them. "Rufus's old lair. Let me just think of the coordinates."
The Doctor nodded, his fingers tapping.
"Saxon."
"What?" The Doctor twisted, eyeing Sherlock who was staring at the Doctor.
"It was his brainwashing tune. The four taps repeated continuously. It was clever, still didn't like him mind. He was obviously deluded." Sherlock knocked the rhythm against the laptop, the metallic clink loud and clear in the quiet.
"Moriarty was doing it, when he was in here." The Doctor frowned, not liking where his thoughts were taking him.
"Do you want me to type it in or…?" The Doctor jumped as Sam's voice interrupted his thought stream, he was standing right next to him now.
"Er, no, no. I can do it." The Doctor quickly typed in the numbers Sam recited, revelling in the purposeful movement of his TARDIS.
Quiet drifted in as Sherlock stared into the distance and the Doctor wondered about the bright glow of the TARDIS heart, and whether it was something else entirely.
Sam couldn't stand his own thoughts though. "Doc, where did you go before I called you?"
A grin slowly spread across the Doctor's face.
"I found a way to your brother."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Castiel tended to the fire, adjusting branches so the flames could reach them, keeping it so there was always a steady blaze. He seemed content, even though members of the pack watched carefully as if Cas might accidentally fall in. Dean found it somewhat annoying.
"Why are they looking at you like that?"
Cas turned, rubbing the debris off his knees as he stood and came to sit next to Dean. Despite the fact they'd only helped him, Dean couldn't bring himself to sit by them yet. Their eyes only reminded him of how the monsters had regarded him, like he was just the next meal.
Cas shrugged, smiling in his way. "The first time I offered to do it, I stood in the middle of the fire."
"Are you kidding me?" Dean muttered, he hadn't been far off right. "Are you hurt? Or are your powers back?" Dean regarded Cas, as if he would suddenly notice huge burn marks even though he'd barely stopped looking at him since they'd found him.
Cas frowned, "I'm not hurt but nor are my powers back." Cas leaned forward, dragging his eyes to the fire, where he lifted a branch that was currently being devoured by flames. The way the whole pack stood up was almost comical.
Madison, one of the leaders as far as Dean could tell, also somewhat familiar, came closer.
"What are you doing, Castiel?" She asked hesitantly but it was berating.
Castiel mostly ignored her. "I'm just showing Dean something. It's okay." Madison stayed close, obviously not convinced; Dean couldn't say he felt much better. Maybe Cas had reverted back to crazy in their time apart.
That was when Cas clamped his hand right on the burning stick.
"Cas!" Dean shouted just as Madison shouted "Castiel."
"Look, it's fine. Just like I keep telling you." Cas shook his head, then looked hopefully at Dean.
"It will be the same for you. Just touch it." Dean swallowed, Cas' hand looked fine, it wasn't burning to a crisp at any rate. Still.
"Trust me, you don't need to sleep, eat or drink. We are, in our own way, beyond this world. It was not created for us. The environment doesn't know how to react to our presence, so it mostly doesn't." Cas explained in a calm voice, as the fire curled around his arm.
Dean stared hard at Cas. His eyes telling Cas in clear terms that if this went wrong, Dean would use his other hand to show him that he could still feel pain. Slowly, Dean lifted his hand and after a last deep breath, grasped the burning wood.
Heat warmed his palm uncomfortably, he almost released it out of instinct but he held on, feeling Cas' and the packs' eyes on him. He could feel the flames but more like shadows of their true forms, they were not painfully hot, just warm, tickling his hand as they embraced him. It was almost hypnotising, watching their hands being licked by the orange embers without feeling the sharp, ugly tenderness of his skin.
"It's alright." Dean grunted, releasing the wood and watching as Cas carefully rearranged it in the fire.
Madison smiled, but didn't move off. "Can I sit here?"
Cas didn't say anything, choosing this moment to add some more kindle to the fire. Dean watched her, she had long, dark hair that matched her eyes. Her skin was pale where he could see it beneath dirt and ragged clothing. Her stance was subtly confident, and there was just something infuriatingly familiar about her. Dean's curiosity overrode his paranoia.
"Sure, take any patch of dirt you like." She did, sitting cross legged next to Dean.
"Is the blood alright?" She asked, her eyes reflecting the flicker of the fire. He touched his cheek where the dried dead blood made his skin feel tight and itchy.
"It's fine, thanks." He smiled lightly.
"You alright, Castiel?" She smiled nervously. Dean found it endearing, especially with Cas as docile as he appeared.
"I am very content at this moment, thank you Madison." Cas stretched his arms and rolled his neck, it reminded Dean of 2014!Castiel but he was happy enough to just have Cas with him alive to worry about how human he appeared.
Madison paused for a moment before sitting close by and considering them, or more precisely, Dean.
"Checking out the goods?" Dean asked, then regretted it. They were Gordon's words.
Madison shook her head, "actually, I was wondering if you remembered me?"
Dean narrowed his eyes, so he did know her but he didn't know where from. At his silence, her gaze dropped.
He shook his head, feeling kinda guilty, he'd obviously made an impact on her but it had been so long since he'd dealt with a common werewolf. He tried and failed to ignore Cas' exasperated sigh.
"What?" He glared at Cas.
"Sam would have reason to remember." Cas stated, as if Dean were purposefully ruining everything. Seeing Madison's face, Dean realised maybe he was. She looked up from the ground, and the sad acceptance in her eyes was what clinched it.
"Madison." Dean breathed. He remembered his brother's tear-strewn face, the emotional turmoil of the few days they'd spent together and how in the end she had bravely accepted her fate. She hadn't deserved what had come to her.
"You're okay." Dean gripped her shoulder, holding her tighter than necessary but he couldn't believe it. She was alright, not some lust crazy monster in the middle of this Hell hole.
"Yeah, I was lucky. I found a pack and I made my place, for some reason being killed by a Winchester added to my credibility too." She smiled but Dean found that thought hard to swallow.
"Did Sam ever find anyone else?" She diverted, pushing him to sit again.
"One or two girls, but Sam struggled for a long time, after Jess and then you…" Dean shrugged, unable to stop the thought of Ruby crossing his mind.
She nodded, "I guess a lot must have happened since you met me, I mean your friends with a god now."
"A god?!" Dean choked.
"An Angel, I'm an Angel." Cas spoke chastely, as if he'd said it often.
"You are the closest to a god we'll ever get, Castiel." Madison rolled her eyes.
"I am nothing compared to my Father."
"Your Father shoved us in a hole so we wouldn't bother him; you saved us, let us see our home once more and then came back. You have great power, just not here or now. To me, you are better than your god."
Cas was about to protest, when Dean saw Dirty, the werewolf who had done the lame attempt at a rescue, coming over.
"Shut up, you two! Why do you even care about stupid gods? Is that why you were so keen to get Cas out but didn't mind me rotting to death?" He stood up, growling his words at Dirty.
"I couldn't risk my pack over some human."
THE ELDER WEREWOLF INTERRUPTS. DOESN'T LIKE DEAN WINCHESTER SO MUCH. PLANS TO GO SAME PLACE GORDON WAS HEADING. MEET REST OF PACK BRIEFLY (BY CAS). HEAD TO LAKES OF LEVIATHAN. Cas points and says 'that's where we're headed.' Description of forests like the Doctor described.
xxxxx
"
Sherlock gets pissed/drugged
"What are you…?" Sam exclaimed, watching Sherlock crawling on floor next to the bed (drunk and drugged after finding John gone.)
"What?"
"No, no. Here, look." Sam picks him up, gently placing him on the bed. "It'll be okay. Just sleep, Sherlock."
"Of course, it'll be fine. I'm fine, I am absolutely fine."
"Yes, you're great. Now if you need me, I'll be next door."
"Why would I need you?"
Wake up to find naked Sherlock! (Yes naked Sherlock and he just wraps himself up in the sheet like he did in the series two premiere~)
Simply because of this.
World is suddener than we fancy it,
World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural.
A few other writing techniques lend this same taste of fantasy combined with normality. By using 'world' without the expected 'the' before it: "World is crazier and more of it than we think," "World is suddener than we fancy it" questions our rules, our inner referee who corrects grammar and spelling mishaps. It opens us, the reader, to accepting the whole situation created in this poem, to accepting it for what it is and not trying to put it in a framework that we are comfortable with. The use of 'we' creates a welcoming mood, expansive, understanding but then the singular "I peel and portion/a tangerine" zooms us away from the universal, down to this person, performing an unspectacular duty of eating a tangerine- and though the taste and texture is left out, the devourment is implied as the pips are then 'spit'). Finally, my personal favourite: "I peel and portion... and feel/the drunkenness of things being various (6-8)." It strikes a known chord, of feeling how crazy and sudden life is, how infinitely variable, like a snowflake, and it seems logical that eating a tangerine might cause one to feel drunk, dizzy at the thought of how much 'world' is.
I think this is a perfect description. I think the doctor may quote this if asked why they were helping.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sam puts a track on the email for Sherlock, Sherlock contacts Mori through email.
Find location but don't know how to rescue John without loss.
Sherlock decides to give Mori what he wants.
The Doctor messes with the impala as he's bored. ("Gosh, this takes me back... Or forward." – Doctor) When Dean gets back, he can tell, he is not happy. The Doctor made it more efficient and 'just added something a little extra so she won't be dying anytime soon.'
Crowley attempts blackmail with Impala.