Dean walked in throwing a wink in his brother's direction, which was only to be expected. My cheeks flushed a bit in embarrassment, but I was too happy to care that Dean had seen them kissing from the staircase. Honestly, I was a bit appalled that I hadn't heard them coming in. Apparently, Sam had distracted me a lot more than I had thought. Following him into my bedroom were the three others that had gone to examine the crime scene. I had to admit that the presence of five grown albeit fictional men in my bedroom was very strange. But who was I to argue?

"So Sammy what did you find?" Dean asked.

"A Stymphalian Bird, it explains the brass feathers and several aspects of the wounds inflicted on the victims. The demon is probably using one to do its dirty work." Sam explained, looking through our notes.

"What the hell? Why's a demon working with a Stymphalian Bird?" Dean looked a bit like Sherlock for a moment, racking his brain to figure out the problem in front of him. I forgot sometimes that Dean was really a combination of brains and brawn.

"I don't know man. Demons don't usually pair up with another creature. Maybe this one just has a fondness for birds." Sam replied with a shrug.

"Did you guys find anything?" I asked.

"Definite traces of demonic presence. The place was coated in sulfur," Dean replied. He spotted the pie tin sitting between Sam and me, and leaned forward hopefully only to find it was empty. He scowled at us as he went to sit down at the desk.

"Sounds like we must be on the right track, how about the findings from your end, Doctor?" I asked.

"I picked up some traces of a time holes," the Doctor responded waving his screwdriver. "It seemed to be naturally occurring, so we aren't looking at a time traveler. My guess is that this demon fell into the hole by accident, and for some reason it blames you." I nodded. I'm sure the demon had excellent motivation to blame me.

"It's definitely a hole or tear, not a crack?" I affirmed.

"Would I be able to tell if it was a crack?"

"There would be a crack in the wall or the ceiling. You probably would have noticed it."

"I didn't see any cracks… Why is it important?" The Doctor stared me down, but I held my ground.

"Sorry I can't tell you. Spoilers," The time lord nodded.

"It's best not to mess with my time line." He agreed.

"Did you check for any void particles?" I asked the Doctor.

"No... I didn't think of that. Oh nice job, you're brilliant, you are." As he felt around in his pockets for what looked like old school 3D glasses with one lens blue and the other red, I glanced around the room. Sam and Dean were exchanging a series of silent comments via eye telepathy. They stopped as soon as they noticed me looking, but I'm certain they started up again when I turned away. John and Sherlock were both leaning up the wall near the doorway listening to our conversation in interest. Well John looked interested. Sherlock looked like he wanted to interrupt us and spill out all of his findings. John seemed to be holding him back somehow. God bless the day that man had met Sherlock. I don't think anyone else could ever get Sherlock to keep from bursting out his thoughts. I noticed Sherlock was pinching John's jacket between his thumb and index finger to control himself. I found the gesture to be kind of sweet and grinned to myself.

"Here they are." The Doctor said finally pulling the glasses out of an inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"Could I try them on?!" I could barely contain my excitement.

"Of course," he said with a smile, handing me the glasses. I slid them on. Expecting to only see void debris on the Doctor I was surprised to see it on everyone else too. I looked down at my own hand. It was fine. No traces of the void on my skin, but everyone else seemed to have passed through it at some point. I told this to the Doctor.

"Weeell, I guess the time hole could have created thinner boundaries between our realities and yours that allowed us to pass through."

"Wait so we are actually from the television shows like Lucy said?" John interjected.

"As far as I can tell, yes, we're all from different realities. We shouldn't be here. We don't exist here outside of the shows." The Doctor answered, facing John.

"Will we be able to go back?"

"I'm not even sure how we got into this reality in the first place. That alone shouldn't be possible." The Doctor answered, running a hand threw his hair.

I thought about the few times in the show when any of the characters had crossed the void. Peter Tyler and his universe's version of Torchwood had made those buttons that allowed them to jump through. The Doctor's TARDIS had made it through the void and back once as well, but that trip had nearly wrecked her. By all means that I could think of, none of these people (characters? I had no idea what to call them now) should have arrived in my small town of Doubery.

"But is it possible, even just a little bit, for you all to get back?" I asked the Doctor.

"It's possible, but I don't think it's likely." The Doctor responded. I was torn. On one hand, the characters I had looked up to for so long were now stuck in my universe, and I could talk to them as much as I desired. I even had some sort of relationship blooming with Sam, which I couldn't be more excited about. On the other hand, it was unfair to separate these characters away from their families and friends. I wished that I could do something. Instead of dwelling on my inability to help, I swiveled to face Sherlock and John. Might as well continue gathering facts on the case, we could always work on trying to travel back across the void later.

"I'm sure you've been dying to inform us about how idiotic we are, so why not tell us what you found Sherlock?" I asked teasingly. I knew Sherlock was dying to inform us of everything that we'd missed.

Sherlock straightened up and began to pace in the middle of the room. "While I don't have the same knowledge about time and space or the supernatural, do shut your mouth John I'm not being modest, I do have a superior comprehension of crime scenes than the rest of you. If any of you had bothered to notice, the house was more or less cleaned of dust. It's been abandoned for years. There should have been layers of dust coating everything, but there wasn't. This held true throughout the entire house, so I don't believe you could blame it on the demon or the time hole, meaning that there has been someone going in and out of that house recently."

I grimaced. I wasn't going to mention that I had been a visitor to the house for fear that everyone would reprimand me, because it was 'too dangerous.' Sherlock must have caught me mid grimace, because he gave me a quizzical look. I shook my head slightly, and he breathed a small 'oh' when he caught the understanding. I knew he'd interrogate me about my presence in the house later, but for now I remained quiet and let the detective continue his deductions.

"In addition there were several sets of footprints leading to and from the front door. Unfortunately the police did a right job trampling over most of those. However, there was clearly one set of footprints that lead only into the house. Those belonged to Ally Johnson, because she never walked back out the door. There was also another set of size 11 men's shoes that only exit from the house."

"How could someone only leave the house?" Dean asked, cautiously. It seemed like he already knew the answer and was praying that he was wrong. It slowly began to dawn on me as well, what Sherlock had just said.

"If what you all said was true, the demon entered the house not by the front door, but by a time hole. Then the only explanation is that he didn't return to the time hole, and he left the house after the murder."

"Shit." I heard Sam swear under his breath. I couldn't agree more.

A knock on the door broke our current argument over what to do about my well being. As I had stated before, I didn't care that much about my own well-being. I just wanted to have an adventure. I wanted to do something interesting with my life, and if I died as a result than at least I died living the way I had always dreamt I would. Unfortunately, I was the only one who saw things this way. Sherlock, while not exactly on my side, had been defending my abilities and repeatedly state that everyone was underestimating me.

"I'll go get that," I said rising to my feet. Well I would check to see who it was first from the top window. It wasn't like I was going to open the door to a stranger.

"You can't do that. The demon is on the loose!" Sam nearly yelled.

"Oh, so you're going to answer the door at my house? I'm sure that would go over really well. I'm sure my neighbors wouldn't find having five guys in my house strange at all. Especially when they all know that I don't have any friends nowadays." I saw John's face fall from the corner of my eye. It was true though. Ever since I had started college, I had lost contact with all my high school friends. I lived at home during the school year, as well, so my relationships with peers in my classes didn't really go that far. I was a quiet person, and I liked it that way.

"You can't leave this room. It isn't safe," Sam tried to convince me.

"I'll be fine." I replied, grabbing a water gun filled with holy water from my closet. "It'll only be a minute." With that I walked out my room toward the window in the guest room. I looked out at my front doorstep. Standing there was one of my neighbors. He lived sort of behind me, next to the abandoned house. He was a nice man, and we had talked on many occasions. He had even come to my high school graduation party. I smiled and turned to walk down the staircase only to find Sam standing in my way.

"If you won't stay in your room then I'm going downstairs with you. There's a car in your driveway, which I'm sure he noticed. My presence would explain that."

"Fine," I gave in. "You can come along. The rest of you," I said. Spinning toward my bedroom, I saw all their faces all lined up trying to take a peek at the goings on, "need to stay in there, and not let my neighbor see or hear you. Got it?"

"That's reasonable enough," John answered for the group. I don't think everyone agreed with him (actually they all looked ready to run him down), but the look he was giving them could melt internal organs. Needless to say, no one protested.

I ran down the stairs, checking the salt line as I reached for the door knob.

"Hi, Mr. Eddie!" I greeted upon opening the door.

"Good afternoon Lucy, it's nice to see you." He smiled back, extending his hand to shake mine. Sam gave me a warning look, but I took Mr. Eddie's hand, and nothing spectacular happened. He spotted Sam standing behind me, "Who's this lad?"

"Oh! This is Sam. Sam this is Mr. Eddie. He lives next to the house that murder happened in." I introduced the hunter, striving for a normal conversation.

"It's nice to meet you Sam." They shook hands. "Is that your car in the driveway?"

"It's my brother's actually." Sam responded loosing up a bit.

"Well, you should tell him that it's in beautiful condition. He must take fantastic care of it."

"He does. He loves that car more than he loves himself." Sam laughed. He had such a joyful laugh. I decided right then that my mission was to make him laugh a bit each day, so he never forgot how.

"You know how I love to see your exquisite face," I joked with my neighbor, "but did you have a reason for coming over?"

"Oh yeah, I was wondering if you knew anything about the murder."

"A bit," I answered cautiously.

"I heard," he said, lowering his tone to a hoarse whisper, "that you were the one who found the body. Now I wouldn't normally believe the neighborhood gossip, but I know how you like to frequent that house."

I felt my heart plummet. I knew everyone upstairs was listening and Sam's face was contorted into a horrified look. Sherlock had already figured out my secret, but I hadn't wanted anyone else to know. I didn't want to seem like I was engrained into the case as I was. Taking a shallow breath, I answered the question. Keeping secrets would never help with the investigation, and it would only make me look guilty of something.

"Yeah, I was heading down there to read a little bit, because the house felt too stuffy. I walked in the backdoor like I normally do, and I greeted by the lovely sight of the dead body. I didn't see the killer, if you were going to ask. I just saw the body. I called the police and told them." I forced a smile, almost able to feel the betrayed and surprised stares my comrades were burning into my back.

"Well blow me down, the rumors were true?"

"I guess they were," I shrugged, laughing. This really wasn't the appropriate time to be laughing, but I couldn't help it.

"I suppose that means your hiding spot is out of commission." Mr. Eddie joked.

"I know," I replied remorsefully. "I really liked it there."

"It's okay, sweetie. You'll find other places to go. You've always been an explorer like that." Mr. Eddie added, trying to cheer me up.

"Thanks." I said gratefully.

"I'll see you later, Lucy. Sam, it was nice to meet you. Be good to her. She's the most interesting person you'll ever meet. Just wait until she starts talking about all those shows she watches. You'll never meet a more passionate person." He turned his back to us and walked back down the brick pathway.

I closed the door behind him, inwardly kicking myself for telling everyone that information. Attempting to keep the attention off of me, I started to talk about Mr. Eddie. "I don't know why he said I was interesting. He's far more intriguing than I could ever be. He holds a world record for hosting the largest hide-and-seek game ever. The way it worked was that the contestants had to hide somewhere, have someone else take a picture of the room where they were hiding, and then mail the picture to his house. The people who had the most creative hiding spots won a prize. I got to help him sort through all the pictures. It was a ton of fun." I laughed at the memory. "Also he went to a neighborhood party dressed in drag and got propositioned by eleven different wedded men, and nineteen teen-aged boys. He's a falconer as well, which is just epic-"

"Lucy," Sam interrupted, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Did you really find the Ally's body?"

I sighed. Apparently, my attempt of distracting Sam hadn't worked. "Right, I don't want to say this all twice. Let's go upstairs."

The room was silent when I walked in. Everyone's eyes were on me as I approached my bed and took my seat once more. I set the squirt gun down on the floor and set the violin in my lap once more. Plucking at the lowest string on the instrument, I raised my eyes to meet the gazes coming my way. I felt Sam settle down next to me before I began to talk.

"Yes. I found the body. That house has been a sort of hideout for me since high school. I go there a few times every week to read or watch shows or movies on my laptop. It's a nice respite from the rest of my life."

"That was why nothing was dusty in the house?" John asked quietly to Sherlock. The detective and I both nodded.

"I have mild dust allergies. Once I started to go to the house frequently, I dusted the floors and some of the furniture."

"Describe how you found the body." Sherlock demanded.

"It was maybe four or five in the morning," I started trying to remember the scene.

"Four or five in the morning?" Dean looked at me like I was crazy. I probably was a little bit insane, now that I thought about it.

"Yeah, I don't like sleeping. It's a bit boring. I only do it, because my body demands me too." I heard Sherlock chuckle slightly. "Sometimes I wake up at four or five and I can't go back to sleep, so I go over to the house. It's quiet. Plus you won't be able to find a nicer place to watch the sunrise."

Gathering my thoughts I launched into the story of that morning. "Like I said, it was four or five in the morning. The sun wasn't up get, but the stars had already faded from the sky. The sky was light enough that I didn't need a flashlight to find my way to there. It was a little chilly that morning, because I remember the wind going through my thin pajama pants. Anyway, I entered the house through the backdoor like usual. It wasn't super light in the house, so I didn't realize anything was off at first. I mean you guys have seen the house, so you know that the backdoor leads to the kitchen, which is adjacent to the living room. I was going into the living room that was only just beginning to brighten up with the rising sun. I saw something lying on the middle of the floor. At first I thought it was an animal or even a blanket I had accidently left. The closer I got to the dark shape in the middle of the room, the more I realized that something was really really wrong. After a few more moment I realized it was a dead body, surrounded in a pool of blood. It wasn't quite the sight I had been looking for to start a peaceful morning. Needless to say, I called the police right away."

"Your name was never in the report," Sherlock pointed out.

"It wouldn't have been. I hung up before they could ask my name. A trick I had learned from you actually," I said turning to Dean. He nodded his approval.

"Why didn't you give them your name?" John asked.

"I didn't want to explain what I was doing the house. That could lead to questions I didn't have very good answers for."

"Makes enough sense to me," Dean said.

The Doctor was about to ask me another question when another knock on the door interrupted us.

"Here let me check instead," Sam insisted, putting a hand on my shoulder to keep me in place. The room went absolutely silent, waiting for Sam to announce who was standing at the door.

"It's Mr. Eddie," Sam stated, sticking his head through the open doorway.

"He does this sometimes," I started, getting up. "He denies that he's getting old, but every once in a while he'll forget that he just came over. This will just take a second." I said, addressing everyone else.

"Take the water gun just in case," John prompted, handing it to me.

"Thanks," I replied. Holding the water gun, I ran down the stairs after Sam.

Upon opening the door, I knew something felt off. Mr. Eddie's shirt had been purple when I talked to him a few minutes ago, now he was wearing a slightly obnoxiously colored orange shirt. His hair looked more disheveled than it had been earlier. I looked up at Sam to see if he noticed anything different. The hunter's brows were furrowed in concentration, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Eddie. To what do I owe the pleasure?" I greeted.

"No particular reason. I'm just stopping by to say hi." He extended his hand in greeting.

"Sorry," I said avoiding the handshake. "I'm not feeling my best today. I don't want to get you sick."

"How sweet of you Lucy, protecting an old man like me," he said genuinely. No, that wasn't right. He always always used the term 'old man' sarcastically.

That's when I noticed something glittering in my peripheral vision. I raised my eyes to the roof of the house across the street. It was only a bird was sitting on a roof. There wasn't anything unusual about that. The bird shifted, however, causing the sun to bounce off its shinning feathers. My eyes widened in fear. Looking down at my neighbor's left hand, I saw that he was wearing his falconer glove.

"Oh good, you've figured it out," Mr. Eddie said his voice changing from its usual bumpy tone to something resembling black silk. My dear neighbor blinked slowly, and I knew exactly what was about to happen. My feet, however, refused to move. When he opened his eyes again, the warm brown irises were gone, replaced by completely by the black eyes of a demon. "I've just been dying to see you again, Lucy."