The TARDIS sounded empty lately, even though the Doctor was trying desperately not to notice.
He had honestly expected to find someone new to travel with him by that point, because he always had been able to find someone. The TARDIS didn't like to be lonely any more than he did; he could feel that much just by walking through her hallways. He had noticed lately that she seemed almost nostalgic, that a few old companions' rooms seemed a little closer to his than they usually were, that he'd catch the occasional scent of celery or find a recorder lying around.
"We're getting old, aren't we, old girl?" the Doctor said as he rested his hand on her console. And he knew it was the truth. He was older than he'd even told anyone, really. He'd told Rose he was nine hundred when they met because it was a nice, even number. And he'd counted his age in years since knowing her, though he kept losing track when he traveled without a companion.
And yet, despite the melancholy spreading through the TARDIS, the Doctor had absolutely noticed that his old girl seemed to be taking him places specifically where he wouldn't take anyone back with him. He kept returning from his adventures alone—ever since he'd been told he was going to die soon.
He almost felt betrayed, knowing that the TARDIS believed that prophecy. But then, he believed it too, even if he didn't want to. So he couldn't really blame her for feeling a little bit down, all things considered.
"Come on, old girl; you're not getting rid of me that easily," he teased as he yanked on the controls of the TARDIS. "We're not ready to say goodbye, are we? Got too much to do, too many people to save. And what's the point of living this long just to throw in the towel, eh?" He grinned as widely as he could. "What do you say? Who should we save today?"
With that, he let the TARDIS go and grabbed the side of the console, hanging on through the typical bumpy landing and grinning the whole time, because it sure sounded like the old girl had a bit of her spark back.
To his surprise, however, when he opened the door, he found himself on what looked like a pleasant Sunday afternoon in the middle of an American suburb. The big lawns, the occasional yard sign advertising that the home was for sale or celebrating a school team, the one house with a truck in the yard and a larger-than-life American flag…
The Doctor raised an eyebrow and popped his head back into the TARDIS. "You took me to a lazy Sunday?" he asked incredulously.
The TARDIS dinged indignantly in response.
"I do trust you," he promised her quickly, and when she dinged again, he huffed affectionately, waved her off, and closed the door behind him. "Look, see? I'm braving suburbia for you. If that's not complete and total trust, I don't know what more you want from me."
He was still chuckling to himself as he made his way down the street with his hands shoved deeply in the pockets of his long coat. So far, he didn't see anything amiss—he even saw someone waving to him while pushing a lawnmower.
And then, he did a double-take.
"Dean?" The Doctor laughed as he walked over to the edge of the fence and Dean cut the power to the lawnmower, leaving the last third of the lawn slightly longer than the rest.
"What are you doing here?" Dean asked, coming to the fence.
"I should ask you the same thing," the Doctor said, still smiling in disbelief. "Are you working a case? Where's Sam?"
Immediately, Dean lost his smile and took a step back. He cleared his throat, nodded to himself, and then changed direction, walking along the fence line so that he could open the gate and let the Doctor in. "Where's your partner?" he said pointedly.
The Doctor narrowed his eyes for just a second, knowing that Dean had meant that jab to hurt. But he couldn't exactly blame him; he wasn't much better talking about the Time Lords. Or Rose. So, he simply nodded, "Not here," he said.
"Neither is Sam." Dean opened the latch on the gate with a little more oomph than was necessary and stepped back as it swung open. "So, seriously, what're you doing here?"
"Not sure myself," the Doctor admitted, looking around the meticulously-kept yard. But then, if Dean had settled down, something like this made sense. He liked to work with his hands, to be outside… he liked to throw himself into projects, and it showed.
"That sounds about right," Dean said, shaking his head. "Flying by the seat of your pants through time and space…"
"You sure you don't want to come?" the Doctor asked. He knew as soon as he asked that it was too much to ask; just looking around, he could see that Dean had poured so much love into this new home of his, and he didn't want to take that away. Hadn't he learned anything from watching companion after companion walk away from him for a better life? A safer life?
The life he led came with complications, often fatal ones. Irreversible ones. And asking a Winchester who had just lost his brother to jump into a life like that was dangerous; they were liable to take him up on it and then get themselves hurt.
Still, Dean was watching the Doctor after his offer, both eyebrows raised, his arms crossed over his chest. "It's tempting," he admitted at last. "More tempting than you know."
The Doctor held up both hands. "I don't want to mess up anything you've built here," he promised quickly. He kept one hand raised defensively, but with the other, he gestured broadly to indicate the yard and the house and the fence. "This kind of life? Mowing the lawn and reading the paper and going to dinner parties—that's an adventure I know I can't handle. But that's where all the best stories are born. I get to skip the hard work that goes into building a life, but sometimes, I have to wonder what I'm missing, you know?"
It wasn't much of a lie. Lately, he'd been thinking about the other Doctor. The one with one heart. The one who had Rose. The one who had a happy ending. And it was genuinely hard not to feel jealous of that guy.
"Yeah, well, I'm trying out the normal life," Dean said, though he didn't sound excited about it.
The grass is always greener, the Doctor reflected. Humans always wanted adventure until they'd had enough of it. And then, they wanted a different adventure.
"Seems to suit you so far," the Doctor said.
"Maybe," Dean said. He paused and barely glanced at the Doctor. "Anyway, I promised Sammy I'd try."
"Ah," said the Doctor, instantly understanding. A promise like that, between those boys… it was practically sacred.
"And it's what I can do, you know?" Dean continued. "I couldn't save him, but I can do this. I can make Lisa happy. I can give Ben a good life. It's what I can do, and I'm trying, you know?"
The Doctor felt his shoulders drop as he wondered if he was ever going to find a point in time during which Dean wasn't trying desperately to help everyone else and not himself, in which the Winchesters got to be happy.
But since that didn't seem likely to happen, the Doctor simply nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said and followed Dean inside.