Just as Dean had spotted the Tardis it faded out of sight. Sam was still fighting. The angels were gone. It seemed that this Doctor was even more cryptic than every single angel they'd come across. Disappearing and reappearing like nobody's business. The man was fickle. "Damn it Sammy," he grumbled, trying to find a purchase on his wriggling body, pinning down his wrists. "Relax man."
Sam tried to wrench himself out of Dean's grasp, breathing heavily, pupils dilated, the face of a man about to get his fix. All Sam could be aware of was the grip that kept him from gorging himself on the corpses of the bloody demons. The room enveloped with the heady scent of blood, an overpowering scent of temptation.
"You okay Cas?" Dean breathed, briefly glancing to the angel. Sam was requiring all of his concentration. One drop. One drop would be all it would take for Sammy to descend into his madness again.
Dean wasn't going to let Sam get locked up again. He wasn't going to torture Sam the way he'd done in the past again. Having to make Sam "abstain" again would kill him.
"Yes, I'm fine," Castiel muttered, as he swayed on his feet, vision still blurry, barely aware of his surroundings. His ears rung, still resonating with the now absent noise that that almost driven him to his knees. He was still unsure whether the angels were really gone; a faint impression of the angels cringing away from the Tardis seemed to be ingrained into his brain.
Sherlock blinked, suddenly awake. He shifted his position slightly, having passed out on top of a dead demon, blood dribbling down its face. He wiped his sleeve in disgust. "Would any one care to tell me what I missed?" He asked, reaching into his coat for another cigarette, to realise he didn't have any left. He'd used them all up pondering this escapade, mere hours before, he wasn't really sure how long. He'd gone downstairs to go out and purchase some more. That was when he'd noticed that the workers were demons. He coughed, eyes going wet. His eyes darted about him, taking in snippets of the room. Stabbed demons. Dazed angel. Dean was restraining his brother in a tight armlock. "Cas!" Sherlock suddenly yelled, scrambling to his feet.
Castiel barely had time to recover his balance when he was yanked sideways. "Move." Sherlock commanded, hissing into his ear. "The Tardis was materializing where you were standing."
Castiel frowned, his eyes focusing on Sherlock, before flickering back to the Devil's trap behind him. The familiar sound of the Tardis warped with his distorted hearing, a surreal echo. A cracked smile formed on Castiel's lips, a tired one as the Doctor stepped out, smiling nervously.
"Well hello! It's the Winchesters! Of course it's the Winchester's why am I saying that out loud, you called." He rambled, pondering aloud. "Sherlock," He also acknowledged, with some trepidation. "Always popping up everywhere."
"Hello Doctor." Sherlock replied. There was an awkward pause between the two, the Doctor recalling the Sherlock saying the Ponds down the phone. Two months and it still stung. That was how long it had taken him to make up his mind about tracking the call to this time period and location. Not that he was here to expressly help them. The Doctor had other interests.
"What did you do?" Castiel rasped, blinking fiercely, still trying to focus on seeing one Tardis and one Doctor. There seemed to be about three.
"Ah, yes, sorry about that. I had to use my sonic screwdriver to meet your resonating frequency to disarm the angels. It shouldn't last long." The Doctor explained, tossing the screwdriver to and fro in his hands.
Castiel's brow furrowed in concentration. "What made you change your mind?"
The Doctor paused, fiddling with the settings on his sonic screwdriver. "It's not really that important. But what's important is that something took off from earth, hit the atmosphere, and fell back down to earth. Alien it seems. Obviously dormant for a long time. Beginning of time perhaps." His screwdriver whirred. "It's apparently putting a stopper on death."
Castiel couldn't help but flinch away from the screwdriver as it glowed, and the Doctor strode around the room, seeming to ignore the dead bodies. He even drew in his screwdriver up close to one. "Strange." He mused. "They have traces of the radiation that my tardis picked up. It obviously wasn't the cause of death, but it definitely weakened them. Otherwise this many demons would've overpowered you, they're all over the building, that's why I had to drive the tardis right up to the window. Which was very difficult to do. Tardis was a bit rusty, she's been parked for awhile."
"Radiation? So you're saying that the "celestial wavelength" that healed Castiel and weakened Sam is an alien Doctor?" Sherlock asked, ignoring the rest of the Doctor's spiel.
"Well…yes I suppose. A wavelength that weakens demons and heals angels…"
"Hey!" Dean protested as the Doctor scanned Castiel. "What are you doing?!"
"Seeing how similar the frequencies are. Cas, is a celestial wavelength, so if they both are from the same origin they should have similar frequencies which they do." The Doctor scrutinized his screwdriver, before directing it to Sam.
Dean reflexively moved to protect Sam from the object, as the Doctor quickly scanned Sam with it.
"There. I blocked the signals of the wavelength from getting to Sam, since he has demon blood. Temporary solution, obviously, but it'll work for now, at this distance. Signal's weak enough to block." The Doctor smiled reassuringly, the type of smile that made Dean's stomach burn, with the notion that it wasn't really a good fix at all.
What was he even doing here, if he didn't want to help?
Dean frowned. This guy really needed to slow down his speech pattern. Half of what he said barely made any sense. He was actually pondering which person he preferred between him, the man who talked too fast, and wore ridiculously outdated clothes or Sherlock, the arrogant genius with the obsession of wearing a coat and scarf indoors even though it wasn't even cold. Sherlock was still winning at the moment. "What is that thing?" He finally asked, thinking it was an updated version to their homemade ghost monitors.
"Sonic screwdriver." He said proudly. "It's great isn't it?"
"Whatever you say." Dean remarked, actually smiling as he saw Sam come more to his senses, seeming to be a little more in control of himself.
"Dean?" He mumbled, as his slowly recovered enough for Dean to feel comfortable letting go of him. "It's fine, I can control it."
Dean merely glared back at him in response. "Are you really sure Sam?"
"Yes, Dean I'm sure," Sam stressed, standing upright, breathing through his mouth to ignore the fact that there were demon bodies strewn everywhere and that he was actually pretty hungry –
He forced himself to focus. "Doctor – why did you come? I thought you said you were retired."
"I am." The Doctor replied. "I'm not helping you with the apocalypse, I'm leaving that to you. Fixed time points and all that nonsense. It's all very complex. But that's not the point. I'm retired. This is – I'm curious that's all."
Dean and Sam just stared at him in response, glancing to Castiel in accusation. Castiel ducked his head, as if pretending to not have heard what the Doctor actually just said. The Doctor couldn't have helped even if he'd wanted to. "Fixed time points?"
"Actually, it's more like a maze of fixed time points and… other stuff…" The Doctor sighed. "As I said complicated. Can't give away any endings. Spoilers, as a good friend of mine would say."
"So you know what happens?" Sam asked. "With the apocalypse."
"Well…no…yeah…a bit." The Doctor looked at them sternly. "But I can't tell you. It's secret, it may rip a hole in time and space."
"Well, Cas, you'd think this'd be important enough to mention." Dean said sarcastically.
"We were out of options."
"So we're screwed?"
Castiel sighed.
"No, I did not say that!" The Doctor emphasized. "It's your problem to deal with. I only came to see what the alien was." He opened the door of the Tardis, gesturing for them to follow.
"Are you sure that "telephone ship" is big enough for all of us?" Dean asked. "I'm sure most of us could fit, but my brother Sammy here –" He motioned towards his brother, who narrowed his eyes at him "He's tall."
Castiel actually smiled. And Dean felt angry at himself for registering it and feeling proud of himself. He was supposed to be mad at him. He was mad. Castiel had given up on him.
"Ah! I always love this part!" The Doctor said, skipping around the Tardis, watching their faces (Sam and Dean's) light up in awe. Castiel merely squinted, as he examined the Tardis while Sherlock simply crossed his arms, feet tapping impatiently.
"Man, this is freaking awesome!" Dean said grinning.
"It's bigger –"
"On the inside, yes, please don't be obvious." Sherlock interrupted.
The Doctor pouted. "I like it when they say that."
Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Why the police box?" Sam asked, glancing around, looking up at the symbols at the top of the control centre and wondering if he'd ever seen them before, or studied any language similar. Stanford had been a long time ago.
"Why the impala?" The Doctor retorted.
"Touché." Dean hesitated before adding "How'd you know about the Impala?"
"The books." The Doctor said. "Very good you know."
Dean and Sam responded with a look of disgust.
"Why's it called the Tardis?" Sam questioned, still looking around his surroundings. He'd never seen anything like it. It reminded him of countless science fiction films that Dean had dragged him along to without dad knowing, with his stupid liquorice sticks and flirtatious smiles at the person giving Sam the popcorn. They'd always ended up getting extra butter as a result. "Time And Relative Dimensions In Space." Sherlock answered for him.
"Right." Sam said. "So this thing can really go anywhere?"
Sherlock nodded.
"You're ruining my fun Sherlock." The Doctor moaned. "Taking all of the fun out of it."
Castiel walked over to Doctor, whispering something into his ear. The Doctor giggled. "You're right."
"Cas what'd you say?" Dean buzzed, feeling as if he'd missed something important.
Castiel shrugged, giving a smug look as he watched the Doctor try to hold back his laughter. "It's funnier in Enochian."