A/N: This is the first time in the history of this fic that one of the chapters isn't chronological from the Winchesters' POV. I don't know that it'll happen again, but I felt like it was important to show both Deans' POVs in this moment to set things up for later.

Dean Winchester hadn't heard the sound of the TARDIS in what felt like ages. What had been ages.

Of course, given the nature of where he was, he knew that either meant the Doctor had found a way to fulfill his promise or he was in trouble. Though what kind of trouble could drive the man to come out to Skaaro, Dean couldn't imagine.

Either way, he wanted to know the story.

He had to be careful about extracting himself from his hiding place in the cliffside. The TARDIS had landed close enough to where he was that he doubted the placement was an accident, but with the Doctor, that could mean the end of his curse or it could mean that the TARDIS just missed him. She was sentimental like that.

He doubted she would enjoy seeing him at this point, but then, she was a weird machine sometimes.

As he expected, a few of his early warning systems went off to let him know the Daleks knew about the arrival of a TARDIS, so he only had a short window of time to get there before they'd be in a firefight. Still, he knew those cliffs better than even the Daleks did. They could maneuver enough to be effective killers, but they couldn't fit into the spaces he could.

His hands itched for his weapon, but he stretched his fingers out, took a deep breath, and kept moving. He'd stolen enough Dalek weaponry that his traps would be much more effective than Cain's.

Not that there wasn't something immensely satisfying about breaking into a Dalek casing and beating the thing inside to death. The odd screams, the confusion when he kept coming back for more… he reveled in it most days.

And then, every once in a while, he got a reminder of who he used to be.

Those reminders were getting fewer and farther between, though. And he couldn't help but wonder when the Doctor was going to make good on his promise—or if he was an idiot for believing that his curse could be undone by anything less than supernatural means. The Doctor was smart, but he wasn't infallible.

Dean had learned that much from his time on Skaaro.

He crept closer to the TARDIS, but just as he arrived, he stopped, hearing a bizarrely familiar voice.

His own voice.

Dean swore under his breath and picked up his pace, caring less about stealth when curiosity was burning so much brighter than the need to avoid the pain of having to die and come back again—and to find somewhere to die that wouldn't immediately give away his … condition.

He slid to a stop and stared down below. At the TARDIS. At the Doctor. At River. At himself.

And he was surprised at how much he missed it. How much he wanted to invite River to cause trouble with him. How much he missed that connection.

The second impulse, he had expected. The desire to shoot his former self and prevent what was coming. But that could wreck more than just his own life if he messed with the timeline.

So, quietly, he slid into place and kept his weapon loaded and his gaze on the sky.

…..

Dean had started to wake up, but he lay still for a while longer, aware of voices in his periphery. He hadn't yet remembered what put him out, so he wanted an idea of what was happening, what they were fighting.

And then, he heard a deep, ringing klaxon, and he relaxed. The TARDIS. That's right. The Doctor had put him right into the middle of another fight.

"I swear, Doc, every time I let you drive, we end up in a warzone," Dean said as he pushed himself upright.

The Doctor had been talking to River, but he came to meet Dean as he started to sit up. He didn't rise to the teasing bait at all, and he was worrying his hands with a nervous energy that Dean immediately hated.

"What?" Dean asked, frowning at the Doctor. "Something happen while I was out?"

"You could say that," River said, one eyebrow raised at him. She didn't look as worried as the Doctor did, but something about the way she looked at him had shifted. He couldn't put his finger on it yet, though.

"You gonna let me in on the secret?" he asked with his best, most winning smile.

She fixed him with her own winning smile. "Spoilers."

"I had a feeling." He leaned back in the loft bed that the Doctor had apparently set up for him. It was underneath the floor of the TARDIS console room, so that the Doctor could check on him easily while still working on whatever had held his attention until Dean woke up. And Dean couldn't help but wonder what else was in that ship. He really hadn't been able to explore more than the console room. "Thanks, by the way."

"What are friends for if not rescuing each other from knocking themselves out?" River teased him.

"Oh, so it's my fault now?" he laughed.

"I didn't run into any force field."

"Not my fault you're slower than I am."

"If that's how you want to tell the story," she laughed.

Dean shook his head and then winced slightly. Maybe he didn't need to move his head for the time being.

The Doctor made a concerned noise from the back of his throat. "I can take you back to the same time we just left. You should stay put."

"I'm fine, Doc."

"He's not going to slow down for you," the Doctor said pointedly.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the Doctor, but … the guy wasn't wrong. But he wouldn't ever admit to it, not out loud. He had his brother's back. "Whatever's going on with Sam, I can fix it," he said. "Send me back."

The Doctor and River both shared unreadable looks, but Dean could tell they'd already come to a decision between the two of them before he'd even woken up, because the Doctor simply nodded and went to the console.

Something in the way the Doctor looked at him had shifted, and Dean wasn't sure he liked it.