The TARDIS interior surrounded me when I opened my eyes. I hadn't even realized I closed them when I pushed Sam out of the way. I blinked my eyes a bit taking in the console. It wasn't the bright orange I had been hoping for, but instead organic tones of bronze and green. Standing quietly, I heard the machine starting to power down now that the Doctor had parked it.
The Doctor! But… which one? I glanced around the TARDIS, my eyes finally landing on a pair of dirty converse. I raised my head slowly taking in the appearance of the tenth doctor. He wasn't talking or running about, though. It struck that he must have just lost a companion. My heart sank at the thought. Praying I was wrong, I glanced around the room. The Doctor was still fiddling around with one of the switches too consumed in his thoughts to notice me yet. As I continued to watch, the Doctor made a face like something was wrong.
"This isn't where you were supposed to land." He whispered to the TARDIS, bending closer to the screen on the console.
"It looks you brought us into another universe again. You're really not supposed to do that, darling." He continued to flip a few of the switches, but the TARDIS didn't respond. Stopping he asked aloud, "Why haven't you powered down? Last time this happened it took too much energy, and you nearly died on me."
"It could be that she got pulled through somehow." I suggested.
The Doctor spun his head to see me at once. "What?"
"Hello." I waved.
"What?" The Doctor's eyebrows were squeezed together trying to explain my presence. "WHAT?!"
"Hello," I said again. Any other usual conversational words fled my head as I stared at the Doctor. Out of all the strange fictional characters to show up, I never would have guessed he would. Everyone had been human, but the Doctor was most definitely not human. Somehow, it seemed almost impossible that he would appear as well.
"How did you get in here?"
"You landed on. Well, technically I let you land on me. I was pushing Sam out of the way, but I didn't quite make it out of the way myself."
"Ooh." The Doctor responded. "That's good to know. I've never landed on a person before."
"Wow, 900 years and you've never landed on a person. That's pretty incredible."
"Well," the Doctor smiled at me. "Wait how do you know my age?"
"You're on a television show I watch back at home called Doctor Who."
"Oh that's a brilliant title. I like that." I laughed at the Doctor's amusement of being the main character of a television show. "So you know everything about me then?" He was clearly, unfazed by the turn of events; although, I really shouldn't have expected anything less form the Doctor.
"Well I know a lot of things about you, but not everything. The show couldn't possibly cover everything."
"Fair enough," the Doctor slid his hands into his trouser pockets. "What about you then? Who are you? Because I know I've never seen you before."
"Lucy Peverall. I haven't got a middle name, because my parents were too lazy to think of one." I laughed. "At least that's what they always told me."
"Well Lucy with no middle name, would you like to have a look around."
"Of course! But Doctor," I started, shifting from foot to foot. "You looked sad when I first came in. Who- Who did you just lose?"
"It doesn't matter. I lose everyone that travels with me." The pain in his eyes broke my heart, and tears threatened to spill over my eyelids.
"Was it Donna?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I knew I was pushing the time lord to face emotions he usually kept so well hidden, but never faced losing companions well.
The Doctor nodded, letting his head hang. It was strange to see the magnificent alien lacking his usual energy. I stepped closer to Doctor and pulled him into a hug without a second thought. Stroking the soft hair on back of head, I murmured, "I'm sorry."
His hands hung loose at his sides for a moment, before wrapping around me. "It's not your fault."
"No, but I can still be sorry," I replied into the collar of his suit.
I felt him nod again. After a moment, he held me out at his arm's reach. "Thank you." He said genuinely. "Now, want to go explo-"
The Doctor was cut off by someone banging on the side of the TARDIS. I knew he was counting the number of knocks he heard, but he only got up to three before the hits stopped. I could visually see the time lord relax. It had been a while since I thought about the tenth doctor's regeneration, but I remembered about the four knocks he lived in fear of every day. I wanted to apologize for those too, but I was caught off guard by a noise joining the second round of thuds.
"LUCY!" I could hear faintly. It sounded like Sam, but I couldn't really be sure. The Doctor was rigid, trying to figure out what was going on. His hands were still on my shoulders, completely forgotten.
Another noise drew our attention to the door. A clicking sound, like the lock was being picked. Neither of us had time to respond before the doors flew open, and Sam burst through them swiftly, holding his gun at eye level. The Doctor reached into his pocket for his sonic screwdriver, before realizing it was still sitting in his chair by the console.
Sam stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the room, causing Dean to run straight into his back. He stumbled forward a bit, before shaking his head as if to clear it. The Doctor watched the two men with both of his eyebrows now raised nearly half-way up his forehead.
"Do you know them?" The Doctor asked, leaning toward me to speak into my ear.
I nodded, and he looked at the hunters again.
"I suddenly feel much more insecure about the last few hundred years of time traveling. Did they really just pick that lock?" He asked, lowering his voice.
"If it's any consolation they pick locks all the time. They're very good at it."
"What kind of people do you hang out with?" The Doctor accused, jokingly. I could see a hint of underlying concern in the statement. I was about to explain the situation, but Sam's yell cut me off.
"Lucy!" Sam called out. I felt my chest swell a little at the anxiousness in his voice. His eyes were darting around the TARDIS as he shouted even louder, "LUCY!"
Before I had a chance to respond, Sam's eyes were on me and the Doctor. He looked at me first, probably judging if I was hurt or not, then pointed his gun at the time lord. "Put your hands up!" Sam growled.
"Yes, of course." The Doctor let go of my shoulders and held his hands above his head. By now Dean had gotten over the shock of a bigger on the inside room, and he was pointing his gun at the Doctor as well.
I glanced at Sam and Dean, then at the Doctor, before stepping between the two parties directly in front of the guns. "Chill out guys. This is the Doctor."
"Doctor Who?" Dean inquired, lowering his gun slightly. Sam lowered his altogether, not wanting to take a chance and hit me by accident.
"Just the Doctor," replied the time lord. He wiggled his fingers while he put his other hand in his pocket. "Hello!"
"Do you know this guy?" Sam asked, our green eyes meeting. Coming from anyone else, I would have said Sam sounded… hurt. As if I had betrayed him in some way. I'm not quite sure how I had managed to do that, but I pushed those thoughts aside. They were too distracting.
"I know him just about as much as I know you." I replied. Sam and Dean understood my meaning instantly, but the Doctor frowned.
"What do you mean by that? You just met me."
"Exactly, Sam and Dean turned up at my door several hours ago, and I ran into Sherlock and John yesterday afternoon." I paused for a moment. Turning back to Sam and Dean, I inquired where John and Sherlock were.
"Just outside the door," Dean answered. "We weren't sure what was going on. One minute there was nothing in the alleyway besides that weird noise, the next moment you had pushed Sammy to the ground and a police box was standing right where you had been. We looked around the box, expecting you to be under it, but there was nothing. Sam was insistent about taking a look in here, so we had John and Sherlock looking around in the alleyway for you in case we couldn't find you."
"I'll go inform them that I'm fine then." I walked out toward the door. Dean followed me toward the door, his shoes echoing in the cavernous room. He placed a hand on my shoulder, making me face him.
"Did you know that you were going to end up in this place instead being squished onto the pavement like a bug?"
"Not really. It was sort of a hunch."
"You weren't sure if you'd survive it landing on you?"
"I was 85% sure that I would be fine." I didn't understand why he needed to know any of this, but I complied anyway.
"So when you pushed Sammy out of the way, you were willing to die in his place?"
"I was." I replied, fidgeting. "You all are much more important that I am."
"I'm not more import—" The hunter shook his head. "You would have died for Sam?"
"Chances are I'd die for any of you, Dean." The hunter nodded with a look of disbelief in his eyes. I knew he of all people would understand, even if he didn't quite believe me yet. I'd lost count of how many times Dean had been willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of his younger brother.
"Thanks for watching out for Sam," Dean muttered.
"You would have done the same for him."
"Yeah, I would have," Dean paused collecting his thoughts. Finally he looked me in the eyes and said, "You're not too bad kid."
"Of course I'm not. I'm the best person you're ever going to meet." I smirked. Dean allowed a laugh to escape from his mouth, before returning to Sam's side. I turned back in the direction of the TARDIS doors and opened them. Looking from side to side, I didn't see John or Sherlock.
"John! Sherlock!" I yelled. "I'm safe, see? You can stop looking around for me now."
John appeared from around the corner, breaking into a relieved grin. "It's nice to see you're okay, Lucy."
"I knew you were fine." Sherlock added in materializing from behind John. "What are you still doing in the Police Box? It must be a bit cramped in there. Unless you like that sort of situation, in which case the tall one has been eyeing you."
"Sherlock!" John exclaimed. I was taken off by Sherlock's comment about Sam, but it didn't matter if I liked Sam or not. Sooner or later he was going to get brought back into his show, and I would never see him again. I would never see any of them again. I pushed the pain of that thought down. No time to dwell on it now.
"It's fine, John." I said emerging from my thoughts. "You guys should come see this! We found another person like you two. He goes by the Doctor."
"Preposterous, John is the only doctor here." Sherlock responded immediately, approaching the doors to the TARDIS. I thought I caught John blushing and smiled on his behalf. "I can't fathom what's so important—oh. Oh, well that is interesting." Sherlock trailed off after sticking his head in the TARDIS, leaning back he looked at the Police Box.
"That's not possible," he muttered, circling the TARDIS.
"What's he going on about this time?" John questioned, taking a look into the TARDIS himself. Unlike Sherlock, John stepped through the door. His voice was small in amazement, as he whispered, "it's bigger on the inside."
"And you must be the Doctor. Lucy's just told us about you." John said extending his hand to the time lord. The Doctor shook it. Sam and Dean were still hovering behind him, ready to jump into action if the Doctor proved to be harmful.
"And you are?" He asked, looking behind John.
"Doctor John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, and this is Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective." John gestured to the door as Sherlock walked through.
"It's another dimension," Sherlock proclaimed. I have to say the man's timing is impeccable. "There has to be another dimension in here. There's no other explanation."
"I'd say that's about right. She's called the TARDIS- best ship in the universe," the time lord said, smiling broadly. "You must be Sherlock Holmes. I'm the Doctor."
"Do you honestly want me to believe that's your name?" Sherlock retorted. I saw John covered his face with a hand.
"Nooo. No, I don't, because it's not my real name. However, it is the name that I go by."
"Ahh." Sherlock's quick eyes took in the Doctor, trying to determine who the man was by his own means. His eyes eventually landed on the time lord's neck, focusing on the double pulse beating through the arteries. Furrowing his eyebrows in slight confusion, Sherlock's eyes met the Doctor's again. "You aren't human."
"Nope," the Doctor responded grinning, putting on his glasses.
"What are you?"
"I'm a time lord - the last one in fact."
"Is he from a television show as well?" Sherlock inquired, turning to me abruptly.
"He's from a show called Doctor Who."
"What does he do?" John asked.
"He travels through space and time, saving the world every few episodes. If not every episode." No one else was talking, apparently absorbing all the new information.
"Time and space you said?" John asked me.
"Yep."
"He could teach you about the solar system, Sherlock." John teased his friend. Sherlock glared at the blogger. He was about to ask the Doctor something when I cut him off.
"Since we're probably just going to continue talking, can we go to the diner please? I'm starving."
"Yeah, that's a good idea. We should probably go get lunch," Sam agreed.
"I'll just tag along then, Lucy? If it's okay with you?" The Doctor looked uncertain, turning to face me.
The diner was about a block away still. I walked quickly, because I actually was really hungry. The last thing I remember eating, besides the pie, was some left over Chinese food after I got home from discussing the case with Sherlock and John last night.
Someone had caught up to me. I could hear his footsteps next to mine. I saw his white converse hitting the sidewalk next to my red ones. I didn't say anything, waiting for the time lord to speak.
"I'm all for having friends," the Doctor started, "but your friends seem… strange."
"How so?" I asked.
"Well two of them carry around guns-"
"Three actually, John just hides his well. He doesn't take it out unless someone is in immediate danger. You can see just barely see its outside under his jacket hem."
"Three of your friends carry around guns then, and the other one is dangerous. Don't you know about Sherlock Holmes?"
"Their all dangerous, Doctor, even you're dangerous. I'm looking for some danger. I've read about adventures my whole life, and now I'm finally getting to go on one of my own."
"We're all guys, though, and we're all older than you. You're acting like it isn't weird, but to any onlooker it's very strange." The Doctor continued.
I could see where he was going with this now. To any onlooker our group would appear very odd, and he or she would be concerned for my safety, since I was the only girl. However, I knew that I would never come to harm by the hand of one of these people.
"Doctor, they're my friends. I know they seem dangerous, but you have to trust me. They've been there when no one else was. I'd feel down, really down to the point where I didn't think living was worth it. I'd turn the television on to an episode of Sherlock, or Supernatural, or Doctor Who, and it would help me keep going. These shows cheered me up when no one else could." I looked earnestly at the Doctor, willing him to believe me. "I may not have met any of them before yesterday, but I trust everyone in this group completely. They may not know me or trust me for that matter, but I know them, possibly better than they know themselves. I know your past, your present, and your future, though I won't be talking about any futures."
The Doctor looked unconvinced, so I continued, "I can hold my own against them if I need to. I've taken Dean down already, because he was underestimating my abilities. You could even ask him, if you like."
The Doctor looked suspicious for a second, before turning backwards to face Dean. The hunter had apparently been listening to the conversation, because he backed me up immediately. Winking at me, he said, "She definitely beat me up, Doc. I wouldn't mess with her."
"Honestly, sir. None of us would hurt Lucy, and if we did she would hurt us right back. You're just going to have to trust us." Sam added in with a shrug. "Plus she saved my life. She pushed me out of the TARDIS's path when you were landing it. Dean said that she wasn't even sure that she'd end up inside the console. She could have easily been killed. I owe her my life."
"I have a feeling many of us will owe our lives to her by the time this case is solved." Sherlock predicted. I was stunned my Sam and Sherlock's comments. I wasn't entirely sure how I had earned their respect, but I felt privileged that they thought of me so highly.
The Doctor nodded, a smile crossing his lips. Still walking backward, the time lord turned his head to look sideways at me, "I think you have proven your point, Lucy. Your friends seem more than trustworthy."
"I told you they were. There's the diner," I pointed toward a small building with a sign that gave the impression it was made in the fifties. An open sign hung in the window as we approached the eatery. My stomach growled again, reminding me how hungry I was. Red paint flaked off onto my fingers as I pushed the door to the diner open, stepping on the wooden floor inside the building. Not many of the tables were occupied, and those that were held older couples.
"Hello, can I help you?" The hostess asked me.
"Table for six, please, preferably in the back," I responded, fiddling with the zipper on my jacket. The hostess nodded, grabbed six menus, and led us to a booth in the back of the dinner. I didn't go to this diner too often, because there was another one closer to where I lived. I scanned the menu. I had been here a few times, though. The place was best known for its breakfasts, serving pancakes until they closed at five.
"Your server will be here in a moment. Since you all look new, I should tell you that breakfast is served all day 'round here. In case you're craving French Toast at three in the afternoon."
"Thank you, Tiffany." The Doctor said graciously, reading off of her nametag. He slid into the seat next to me, while Sam took the seat across from me. I saw Dean debating whether or not to take the seat next to Sam, or let John and Sherlock sit next to each other. He evidently decided to take the seat next to the Doctor, allowing John to sit next to Sam and giving Sherlock the end. I saw John shoot Dean a grateful look. My inner fangirl squealed a little bit at the opportunity to watching Sherlock and John sitting next to each to each other.
Everyone grew quite while looking at his or her menus. I was leaning toward a stack of Belgium waffles, when the waitress came over. She was about the same age as me with brown hair, which fell over her right shoulder, and very well done make-up. I felt instantly inferior in her presence, but I suppressed those emotions from showing on my face. Instead, I straightened my back, running my hand through my choppy black hair.
"Hi! My name is Jennifer, and I'll be your waitress today. What would y'all like to drink?"
"Three teas, two sodas, and one hot chocolate," I piped up from the corner with pretend confidence.
"Is that what everyone wanted?" She looked around the table. Everyone nodded a little dumbfounded that I'd gotten their orders right. Except for Dean, who addressed the waitress, "I'd actually like a beer, instead of a soda."
I glared at the hunter. Dean wasn't quite an alcoholic yet, but given enough time he'll become one. I made a resolution to keep Dean from drinking as long as I could. However, I didn't have time to talk Dean out of the beer, before the waitress shook her head, saying "sorry we don't serve alcohol here. Is the soda fine?"
"Yeah, the soda will be fine," Dean replied slumping back in the booth.
"Well if everyone is good with their drinks, I'll be back in a few minutes to take your orders."
"So you really weren't kidding when you said you knew us." Sam looked at me amazed.
I shrugged, blushing at the compliment. "Don't expect me to order lunch for you all. I don't know you that well." I earned a laugh from about half the table. Sherlock smirked, but I could tell he was amused as well.
"Did the Winchesters explain anything to you while I was getting John and Sherlock?"I questioned the Doctor when the laughter had died down.
"I know about the murders and most of the details about them." He responded. "I'll help if you like. I've done an awful lot of running after aliens in my time. I doubt demons would be much different."
"That would be good, I think. We may be up against more than we realize." I sat back against the red plastic seating, staring at the men around the table nodding in agreement.
"I've got drinks y'all," Jennifer called out, approaching our table. I noticed that another button on her polo had been undone since she had taken our drink orders. I felt my face going red either in embarrassment for noticing or anger at her flirting with the fictional characters I found. Jennifer probably had no idea who they were.
I saw Sherlock roll his eyes and face away from the waitress, pretending to be intensely focused on his cup of tea that had just been placed in front of him. Dean also seemed to have noticed the undone button as well, and he was winked at the Jennifer. I heard Sam groan and cover his eyes with a hand. I kicked him under the table, causing him to look up.
"I bet you my left sock that Dean isn't the one she's interested in." Sam glanced at the girl, sizing her up.
"I bet you my right sock Dean will be the one to leave with her number."
"You're on." I agreed, extending my hand to close the deal. We shook on it and began to watch the waitress more closely, whispering our theories to each other.
"What are you two going on about?" John asked sliding our drinks toward us. He and the Doctor had been discussing Charles Dickens, but they were now both looking at us.
"We made a bet-" I started.
"-about who the waiter was interested on, and who's going to leave with her number." Sam finished.
"Can I take your orders?" The waitress inquired, cutting off our conversation. We all ordered, except for Sherlock. He declared that eating slowed his thinking, and he never ate while on a case. I think John counted it as a small miracle that Sherlock was even drinking tea, but the blogger ordered an extra side of toast for the detective anyway.
The waitress left our table to tend to one of the elderly couples in a corner booth. Dean, having nothing else to focus on, pulled out the paper with all the letters that had been carved into the palms of the victims. He still had the pencil I had given him earlier and started writing down ideas. I couldn't quite see what he was doing, but Sherlock was obviously interested. The detective was leaning forward, pointing to certain letters on the sheet.
"Doctor, you said you travel through time right?" Dean asked.
"And space," the Doctor added.
"In your experience, can there be someone travel through time through a natural phenomenon?"
"There can be holes that can cause that, if a person where to get caught in them." The Doctor answered thoughtfully.
"Would that person travel in chronological order?" Dean questioned. Sherlock was leaning closer to the Doctor and Dean, absorbing the conversation. The rest of us were still confused to where this conversation was going.
"It could happen, but it's unlikely."
"So if a serial killer were to fall into one of these time holes, but continue murdering people, the order that he would be murdering and the order that we see the murders appear in would be different."
"Theoretically, yes that's correct."
I had to admit that in his own way Dean was also a genius. I doubt that Sherlock could have made the same connection Dean had, because he never dealt with cases as illogical as this one was turning out to be.
"Meaning the unmarked bodies are spaces in between words. Brilliant." Sherlock smirked, pulling the piece of paper closer to him. The detective's eyes were darting back and forth between the remaining letters. His eyes suddenly stopped moving, and Sherlock relaxed into his seat, smirking at his genius.
"What did you figure out?" Dean asked leaning forward in anticipation of Sherlock's answer. Sherlock's face was steady. To the unknown eye he looked the same as usually, but John and I both saw there was a feeling of doom and sadness underlying the pale skin. He swallowed thickly, before reading the unscrambled anagram out loud.
"Lucy, stop running."
