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Chapter Text

The bold, black 1967 Chevy Impala pulled up outside of the psychiatric hospital, looking out of place amongst the sleek Volvos and powerful SUVs. The car idled, and the faint strains of music could just barely be heard through the windows. It sounded like Led Zeppelin, but it was only for the briefest moment that it could be heard. The engine was cut, and two figures emerged from either side of the car. Both were dressed in crisp black suits, those typical of lawyers, professors, doctors, and, most importantly, federal agents. The two men exchanged a quick glance over the hood of the Impala, and then walked into the hospital.

The shorter of the two men, his blue eyes set with determination, reached the reception desk just a step ahead of his partner. They both reached inside their suit coats and pulled out badges, flashing them impressively. The three bold letters—FBI—caught the young nurse’s eye immediately, and her surprise was plain. They were just a small, out-of-the-way institution. What were the feds doing here?

“I’m Agent Donahue; this is my partner, Agent Briggs.”

The dark haired man, Briggs, nodded. “We’re here investigating the fires that occurred last week. We were informed that Miss Carmen DiMaritti is here…?” He let the statement trail off, hoping the nurse, whose name tag read Beth, would catch his drift.

She did. “Oh! Yeah, um, you’ll have to meet with her in the visitor’s center—standard procedure for non-family visits, sorry.” Beth blushed, obviously star-struck to be in the presence of two FBI agents—two handsome FBI agents, at that. “I can, um, show you there, if you want.”

Donahue smiled indulgently. “That would be great.”

As they walked down the clean white halls, Beth chattered on about the explosions. “My god, can you even believe it? It’s horrible, all those people dead. And poor Carmen. I mean, talk about survivor’s guilt—she’s the only one who made it,” she said, turning to flash a smile at the two agents. “Guess you know all that, though, huh?”

Donahue smiled back, his eyes flicking down momentarily to sneak a glance at the nurse’s backside.

“And,” she continued, “It’s awful, with everyone thinking she did it! I don’t know how they think a kid like her could…”

The agents had tuned her out by now. Exchanging worried glances behind Beth’s back, they quickened their pace just slightly. Thankfully, the visitor’s center was just around the corner.

“Okay,” Beth said. “If you just wait here, I can go get Carmen.” She turned to go, and then stopped. “Just a word of warning,” she said softly, “Carmen can be a bit…” here Beth paused to think of a nice way to put it, “…difficult.”

Donahue nodded shortly. “Thanks.” His smile now seemed just a little more forced.

Beth hurried off. The second the doors swung shut behind her, the two agents turned to face each other. “So,” Donahue said tiredly, “What now?” There was just a slight difference about them now, something barely perceptible. They were no longer Federal Agents Rick Donahue and Tyler Briggs.

Now they were Dean and Sam Winchester.

Millions of light-years away, in a wormhole of time and space, a somewhat incomprehensible event was occurring. A 1950’s-era police box was flying along, cutting through centuries and galaxies as it went. The TARDIS was returning from a short trip to a small planet several galaxies over from Earth, about 5000 years from the current year. The TARDIS itself had played no part in the events that had played out just recently on that planet, but its two occupants were a whole different story.

The planet, receding in the distance, was slowly recovering from an insurgence of its generally-benign robot servants. The whole planet would have been destroyed if not for the occurrence of a mysterious man in a trench coat and his blonde assistant. The two of them had managed to save the entire planet from ruin, with no battle, and limited fatalities. Then, just a quickly as they had came, they vanished, with their strange blue box. The TARDIS had seen its two occupants through many situations similar to that, on hundreds of planets, in so many different times.

There were legends about the mysterious man in many different cultures, on many different worlds. It was said that death followed him. That was true, but only because he was always trying to stop it. It was said he was the last of his kind. This, too, was true, his planet having been destroyed so long ago. He was said to be a protector, his ultimate goal to defend planets from the fate of his people. This was the truest of all. Until the day that no more Timelords traveled between the stars, there would still be hope for justice and safety. No matter the impossibility of the situation, in the end, he would still be there, a force to be reckoned with. A force fighting against death and corruption, fighting for the underdog, a lonely angel and his human companion, ready to face anything.

That force was the Doctor and Rose Tyler.

Carmen DiMaritti, who turned out to be a girl of about 17, sat at the small table in the visitor’s room, suspiciously eyeing the two federal agents across from her. They had introduced themselves as Agents Donahue and Briggs, and everything about them was legitimate…still, something about them made her nervous. Well, everything made Carmen nervous these days, so what did it matter?

“So, Carmen,” Agent Donahue said, “can you tell us about the fire?”

Carmen flinched slightly. Everyone was always asking about the fire. She understood their curiosity, but she hated having to answer the same questions with a truth no one would believe—they had all thought she was crazy. She didn’t want to be stuck in the mental hospital forever, but lying to the feds was illegal, and Carmen knew it would just eat at her conscience. Still, she didn’t want them thinking she was a full-blown nut job.

The taller of the two agents, Briggs, with his soft blue-green eyes and shaggy hair, seemed to sense her apprehension. “Carmen,” he said gently, “I know it’s hard to talk about what happened, but we only want to help you.”

There was a flash of defiance in Carmen’s dark eyes. How could they possibly help her? “You’re not going to believe me,” she snapped. No one had.

Donahue smiled slyly, and chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe the things we’ve heard. Try us.” He leaned back in his chair.

Carmen sighed, sensing that arguing would get her nowhere. “Fine,” she muttered. “But this is off-the-scale weird. It’s why they locked me up here, and I’m serious, it doesn’t make any sense.” She fixed her steely glare on Donahue.

Donahue’s grin grew wider. “Like I said, try us.”

Taking a deep breath, the young woman began to speak. “I was coming home from my friend Grace’s house. It was really late, like close to midnight, and when I got home, I thought everyone was asleep. I was just locking up when I heard something in the living room. I thought maybe my dad had fallen asleep on the couch. So, I was heading towards the living room to check, and I noticed something smelled weird. Then…then I saw…” Carmen chocked up, tears starting to pool in her eyes. Her breath was coming in shaky gasps. She pressed her hands to her face, composing herself. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s alright,” Agent Briggs said gently. “Go on when you’re ready.”

After a moment she looked up. “I saw Maria.” The tears were now sliding down her face. Seeing the somewhat blank looks on Briggs and Donahue’s faces, Carmen backtracked. “Maria’s my sister. But she’s supposed to be in Europe, in Italy, studying. There was no way she could be back, not without us knowing. She had even called earlier that day from her apartment there.” Sniffling, Carmen resumed talking to the tabletop. “I was about to ask what she was doing there, when she struck a match. That was weird, I mean, Maria doesn’t smoke, and we don’t have a fireplace. Then she…she just dropped it, and suddenly the whole room was in flames!” Carmen returned her gaze to the agents. “The weird thing I smelled was gasoline,” she said dejectedly. “Maria must have soaked the whole house, cause it took about 30 seconds for the place to go up. I just managed to get out.” She was silent. Apparently all that she needed to say was said.

“Carmen,” Donahue said, “You do know that they suspect you, right?”

The girl let out a short, angry laugh. “No duh. Since Maria was halfway around the world, of course they think it was me. But I swear I didn’t do it! I love my family, I didn’t want them to die,” she said, a small sob escaping with the last word.

“We know, Carmen, that’s why we want to prove that you didn’t do it,” Briggs said. “We just have a couple of questions for you, to help our case. They may seem strange, but just answer them as best you can, because they’ll help you.”

Carmen shrugged. All the energy, even the anger, seemed to have drained from her. “Sure. Fine.”

“Okay,” Briggs said, “Did you notice anything strange about Maria’s eyes? Did they look like they were a different color?”

Carmen looked confused, but shook her head. “No, the same color.”

Briggs nodded. “Alright. Now, try to remember, had there been any cold spots in the house?” Carmen shook her head no.

“Can you remember seeing anything strange in or around the house a few days before the fire?” Donahue asked.

Carmen thought for a moment. “Um…I did see something strange, but it was during the fire.”

“What was it?” Briggs asked.

“When I went into the living room, there was something on the wall behind Maria.” The two agents perked up. “There was this symbol…it was really weird. It was painted on the wall. I have no idea what it was or how it got there. But it burned with the rest of the house. I only saw it for a second.”

Donahue slid a pad of paper and a pen across the table. “Do you think you can draw it?”

Carmen shrugged. “Sure, I guess.” They were all quiet for a moment; the only sounds the murmur of other groups around the room, and the scratching of the pen on the paper. Finally, she slid the pad back to Donahue. “I’m pretty sure that was it. There wasn’t much light, though, and once there was, I was running for my life.”

“Understandable,” Donahue said, quickly examining the paper. A look of concern crossed his face, and he passed it to his partner. “Does that look familiar to you?” He asked.

Briggs needed only to glance at the symbol to recognize it. He set the paper down and turned to his partner. “That is not good.”

Chapter Text

The TARDIS’s two occupants in question, Rose Tyler and the Doctor, were reveling in their recent success against the robot uprising. “You were brilliant!” The Doctor said, giving his companion a light punch to the shoulder. “I would have never thought to disrupt their communications. Well…maybe I would’ve, but not in time. Absolutely brilliant!”

Rose laughed. “I can’t believe it worked,” she gushed. “I thought they were going to kill me, all coming at me like that!”

The Doctor smiled tenderly. “I wouldn’t have let them.” They both leaned against the TARDIS control panel, lost in their separate thoughts. “Right!” He suddenly jumped up, and placed on hand on the main controls. “Where to? We’ve got the whole universe out there, and I don’t know about you, but I want a break from rebellious robots and saving the world. It gets a bit tiring.”

“It’s never boring, though,” Rose countered. For a girl who had been working the same shift everyday a year ago, meeting the Doctor and joining him were the greatest things that had ever happened to her.

“I’ll give it that. So, what do you want to visit next? The future, the past, near, far, strange, familiar, up, down—where?” He paced excitedly around her, his fast banter matching his quick steps.

She thought for a moment. “Oh, what was that planet you told me about, right before you changed…the one where the dogs have no noses?” She bit her lip, trying to pull one strange name out of the mess of information the Doctor had crammed into her head since she had met him.

“Barcelona!” He cried out. “Barcelona, that’s perfect! Great place, much better than the city. And, the best part, the dogs have no noses!” The Doctor quickly dialed in the coordinates into the controls of the TARDIS. “Let’s go,” he said, and pressed the button. His blue box whirled on, turning and weaving its way towards the distant planet of Barcelona.

Dean and Sam, having shed their aliases as soon as they had reached their Impala, were now sitting at the table in their cheap motel room. It was in an unfamiliar town, and yet they felt as if they had seen the exact same crappy décor in every other cheap motel room they had stayed in, in all those other unfamiliar towns. Sitting on the table between the brothers was the drawing Carmen had made them, two beer cans, and an overstuffed, leather-bound book. The book and sketch were of the most importance. The beers were there just because.

“Okay,” Sam said, opening the book. “It’s in the back, right?” Dean nodded, taking a swig of his beer. Sam flipped through the back half of the book, until he came upon a page bearing a familiar symbol. Picking up the scrap of paper, Sam compared the two images. They were nearly identical.

John Winchester, Sam and Dean’s father, had been adamant that his sons, hunters-in-training, could recognize supernatural symbols and what they were connected to. In all their memorization, they had come upon the symbol Carmen had drawn for them. When Dean had asked his father what it meant, John had simply said it was something they wouldn’t need to deal with, it was dead and gone, and that even if it weren’t, it was too dangerous…but memorize the symbol anyway. Years later, Sam had come across it in their dad’s hunting journal. There was no explanation there, either, simply a set of scrawled instructions and a golden amber stone set in iron on a leather strap. The iron outing could spin around the stone. It might have just been a fear of the unknown, but there was something about the unnamed symbol that made the brothers nervous. Neither of them would admit it, though.

Sam looked down at the page, and read aloud the hasty instructions their father had left behind. “‘If you’ve seen this anywhere, you’re in over your head. This is not something any hunter can deal with. Take the pendant, turn the casing three times, then press the stone in. Help will come.’”

He set the book down on the table, the necklace glittering slightly in the dim lighting, and looked at Dean. “Well, what do you think?”

“Honestly?” Dean asked, taking a sip of his beer, “I kinda think its crap.”

He leaned back in his chair.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Dean shrugged. “I’m not saying we’re dealing with some nasty son-of-a-bitch, but Dad obviously wrote this a long time ago. We’ve dealt with stuff he never could have imagined. We’re better hunters than he thought we might be. I think whatever it is; we can take it down all by ourselves.”

“Dean, if Dad put something in the book telling us not to deal with it on our own, I think we should respect that,” Sam said, peeling the tape of the pendant’s string, and pulling it from the page. The brothers always argued about how closely they should follow the instructions their father left behind for them.  Depending on the situation, they would switch sides, but they were rarely ever in agreement.

Dean scoffed. “You can’t seriously believe that that necklace is going to summon help. For all we know, that thing could be cursed. It could bring some demon, or spirit or whatever.”

Sam shot Dean an exasperated look. “Dad wouldn’t keep it if it did.” He looked at the instructions printed in the book, and gripped the necklace.

Dean realized that Sam was serious. “Don’t you dare,” he said, jumping to his feet.

It was too late. Sam had quickly turned the necklace three times and pressed in the amber stone set in the middle. For a moment, the stone seemed to glow and churn, like there were living particles inside of it, but then it faded. Both men froze, staring at the pendant still clutched in Sam’s hand, waiting to see if anything else was going to happen.

“So…” Dean said, “What’s it supposed to do?”

Sam shrugged. “It doesn’t say. I don’t know; it might take awhile.”

Dean sighed, and sat on the edge of the table. Sam set the necklace down, looking slightly disappointed. “See?” Dean said, “It’s just a worthless piece of—.”

Just then a strange throbbing sound filled the room, and a large shape started to appear in the corner.

Dean and Sam both jumped up, reaching for their guns at lightning speed. Dean glared at Sam briefly, before setting his sights on the slowly-forming figure. “What the hell?!?”

Suddenly, there was a lurch in the TARDIS. The Doctor’s eyes flew to a screen on the main control console. A look of complete surprise crossed his face. “What?!” He cried, and began frantically pulling on levers and pressing buttons.

Rose tossed a lock of her blonde hair out of her face. “What is it?” She asked. “What’s happened?”

The Doctor was wildly flipping a switch on the TARDIS’s control panel. “We’ve been pulled off course! Something’s pulling the TARDIS somewhere else! But that’s not possible! Nothing could do that! It would rip the universe apart!” He bashed a mallet against the controls, but the only thing that produced was a shower of sparks.

The TARDIS tilted again, and both the Doctor and Rose stumbled against the rail. He turned to her. “There’s nothing I can do. Wherever we’re being taken, I can’t stop it.” There was something in his voice that made Rose suddenly afraid. It took her a moment to identify it, because she seldom, if ever, heard it in the Doctor’s voice—uncertainty.

The growling of the TARDIS stopped, and it righted itself. They had arrived. Whatever far-off part of the universe they had been dragged to, they had landed.

The Doctor stood up, and faced Rose. “We’re on an unknown planet in an unknown time. We have no idea what’s on the other side of those doors.” Without warning, a smile spread across his face. “It’s brilliant!”

Rose smiled, too. The Doctor could always turn anything into a wild surprise, just waiting to be discovered. That was what she loved so much about him—the unpredictability, the optimism, and the excitement he gave off. It was infectious. “Well, c’mon, then! Let’s go see!” She grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the TARDIS doors.

Shrugging on his trench coat, the Doctor followed Rose to the door. With on hand on the knob, he turned to her, serious again. “We’ve got to be careful, though. We don’t know what—or who—is out there waiting for us.”

“They better run and hide,” Rose laughed, and the Doctor turned the knob.

The brothers kept their weapons trained on the bulky frame, despite their surprise. It certainly wasn’t anything else supernatural… as far as they could tell.

“What the hell,” Dean muttered again.

Sam’s brow furrowed. “Is that a—?”

He was cut off as the handle of the large blue box that was now sitting in the middle of their motel room turned slowly and the door swung open. Both men tensed. They were prepared for whatever was about to step out of this box—angel, demon, new horrifying creature. Whatever it was, they would take care of it. Which is why they were completely surprised to see two normal-looking people step out of the box. One was a tall man with wild brown hair, dressed in a pinstripe suit and a trench coat. He had a surprised smile on his face. Following closely behind him was a blonde young woman, wearing jeans and a Union Jack t-shirt. Neither seemed quite sure where they were.

The Doctor, upon noticing the two sawed-off shot guns pointed at their chests, put his hands up. “Oh. Alright,” he said calmly. “Look. No weapons. We’re unarmed. We’re not here to hurt you.” Rose, too, put her hands up. “We just—.” The Doctor stopped suddenly, his brow furrowing and his arms dropping back to his sides. “Hold on.” He looked around. “Are we on Earth?”

Sam and Dean had been tentatively lowering their weapons, but they froze. Sam looked incredulously at the Doctor and Rose. “Wait…what?”

The Doctor, however, was not paying attention. “This is Earth,” he said, in amazement, beginning to walk around the room. “Late twentieth, early twenty-first century, if I’m not mistaken.” He turned to Rose, grinning from ear to ear. “Earth!” He laughed, and Rose lowered her arms with a grin.

Dean was officially done with not being answered. Raising his gun, he rammed the barrel into the Doctor’s chest, and backed him against the wall. “Okay, you’re gonna tell us who the hell you are and how the hell you got here.”

Rose’s eyes went wide. “You leave him alone! Get off him!” She moved towards Dean, intent on taking the Doctor and getting out of there. It might be Earth, but it wasn’t the Earth Rose was used to. Sam lifted his gun, stopping her in her tracks. He felt a small pang of guilt as he saw the fear and anger in her eyes.

“Rose,” the Doctor said gently. “I’m the Doctor, that’s Rose Tyler.”

“’Doctor’ who?” Dean asked.

“Just the Doctor,” he said. “We’re just travelers, passing through. That’s our ship.” He nodded towards the TARDIS. “Now just put the guns down, and we’ll leave, and you can pretend that this never happened.”

Dean looked skeptically over his shoulder at the blue box. “That’s a ship?” He turned back to the Doctor. “What are you, some lame-ass angel?”

“Ah, no actually, I’m a Timelord, and she’s human, just like you.”

“Wait, hold on,” Sam said. “What do you mean, ‘human like us’?” And you’re surprised to be on the only habitable planet?” He looked confused. “If you’re not angels, what are you?”

The Doctor smiled slyly. “Oh, I think you know. Don’t worry, though, we come in peace and all that. No need to take us to your leader, though, I’ve already met him. Nice man, bit uptight. But,” he said, taking Dean’s gun and moving it from his chest so he could pace. “But the real question is how did we get there? My ship is reliable—well, generally reliable, and there’s no way that it could be pulled off course, not without huge, astronomical amounts of power. But there’s no power source here.” He abruptly stopped pacing. “Or is there?!”

With his typical wild, sudden energy, the Doctor began searching the room, dropping to the floor to look under the beds. Sam and Dean watched him with complete confusion. But the barren motel room offered no place to hide this alleged power source. The Doctor was searching under the table, when something on top of it caught his eye. He slowed his frantic pace, finally coming to a complete stop as he gingerly picked up the pendant. It had been abandoned on the tabletop by the brothers upon the appearance of the TARDIS. Now, however, the attention of the room was back on the amber stone, and the Doctor, who cradled it in his long fingers.

“Oh,” he sighed, recognition lighting up his eyes. “Of course.”

Rose came up next to him, looking at the pendant. Though at first glance it seemed just like a piece of costume jewelry, after a moment of looking, she could detect something…unearthly about the stone set in iron. “Doctor, what is that?”

He turned to face her, excitement filling his face. “This is what pulled us here, this itty-bitty necklace. It’s a fragment of the heart of the TARDIS. It can be used to summon the TARDIS in emergencies. Great for when you’ve forgotten where you’ve parked. And,” he said, turning to face the brothers. “I’ve only ever given it to one person.”

“Who?” Rose asked.

“John Winchester.”

Sam and Dean looked up, astonishment written plainly across their faces. “What?!” Dean asked.  

The Doctor nodded. “Which makes you two his sons. Hullo, boys.”

Chapter Text

“So, let me get this straight,” Sam said, looking at the tall man in the trench coat, who was absent-mindedly fingering the pendant that had brought him there. “You’re an…alien?”

The Doctor looked up and smiled. “Yup! I’m a certifiable spaceman. Complete with my own futuristic spaceship.” He affectionately patted the TARDIS’s 1950s-era façade.

Dean scoffed. “I still don’t believe that’s a spaceship. It’s too small.”

Rose sighed. “It’s bigger on the inside,” she explained.

“Whatever,” Dean said with a shrug.

The Doctor had turned his attention back to the pendant in his hand. After a moment, he looked up at Sam and Dean. “So! You activated the heart of the TARDIS, pulling Rose and I away from our lovely vacation. There are only two reasons you would have activated the pendant. ONE!” The Doctor began energetically pacing the room yet again. “You found it in your father’s book, got curious as to what it did, and presto-bango, here we are!” He stopped. “But that’s rather stupid, and you’re not stupid, you’re Winchesters.” Sam shrugged, accepting the somewhat-odd compliment. The Doctor resumed pacing. “Or, theory two, which is infinitely more probable.” Again, he stopped, and turned to Sam and Dean, suddenly serious. “And that is that you’ve seen the symbol, knew what it was, and followed you father’s instructions. Probably against your better judgment.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “How did you know that?”

Rose laughed. “He’s brilliant.”

The Doctor shrugged modestly. “Well…yeah, she’s right. And, you’re Johnny’s sons, aren’t you? You trust your family, but your Hunter logic prevails. Johnny wouldn’t have trusted hurried scrawlings and an old necklace.” The Doctor looked at them closely. “No, you didn’t trust what’s written here, and you don’t trust me.” Neither brother denied it.

“So,” the Doctor said, his tone becoming more serious, “You saw the rune.”

Sam slid John’s book across the table, open to the page. “You mean this?” The Doctor rotated the book and read the page.

“Really, Johnny?” He muttered exasperatedly. The Doctor looked up at the Winchesters. “Isn’t one of your father’s traits always being overly honest?” He sighed, his face falling. “He also always wants to protect you boys, which would explain the vagueness.”

“Wanted,” Dean corrected.

The Doctor stopped, as the meaning of that one word sunk in. “Oh.” His face fell and his shoulders slumped. “He’s…gone?” Dean nodded. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. Rose slipped her hand into his.

“Well,” Dean said gruffly, “With his line of work, he was lucky to make it this long.” There was a quiet moment.

“Right,” the Doctor said, looking up. There was a new, determined glint in his eyes. “Well, he certainly wouldn’t want us sitting around moping, especially when there are lives at stake.” The Doctor turned to Sam. “This symbol,” he said, pointing to the page in John’s diary, “is an ancient rune, from the planet of Traloria. It’s about three galaxies over. The Tralorians are a very mysterious secretive people—hardly anything is known about them.”

Sam’s eyebrows jumped. “We’re dealing with aliens?” The Doctor flashed him a cheeky grin.

Rose spoke up. “What do they do?”

The Doctor sat on the edge of the table. “Tralorians have no visible form—they’re invisible and gaseous, and have barely any traceable mass, which is why we no nothing about them. What we do know is that Tralorians feed off of human thought and consciousness. And they do this by possessing people, and taking away their emotions, their own thoughts, and finally their whole consciousness until nothing but an empty shell is left—a bit like your demons.” The Doctor looked at Dean, who nodded.

Rose’s eyes went wide. “Hold on…demons?” She asked, frightened incredulousness creeping into her voice.

“I’ll explain later,” the Doctor said quietly. He turned back to Dean and Sam. “Unlike demons, though, they can survive without a host, and can give themselves any form they want—this form has barely any mass, and they can’t hold it for long, but it’s smart and fast.”

Dean nodded slowly. “So…they’re kind of like if a demon and a ghost had a lovechild, who was a little bit of a shape shifter?” He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but at least he understood.

The Doctor grinned. “Exactly!”

“Well,” Rose said, tucking her bangs behind her ear, “we know why they’re here—they want to feed on us.”

The Doctor nodded. “Just like last time.”

“But how do we get rid of them without them…getting into us and sucking up our thoughts?” She asked, looking between the brothers and the Doctor.

“Last time, your father,” the Doctor nodded at Sam and Dean, “helped me convince them that Earth was off-limits, and that they were not to use the human race as food ever again.”

A grin flitted across Dean’s face as he imagined how exactly his dad would have convinced those aliens to leave. It had most likely involved rock salt and a Colt revolver. “So, what, they ignored your warnings and are back for more?”

The Doctor’s brow furrowed. “But that doesn’t make sense!” He ran a hand through his wild mop of brown hair. “We made it very clear that they were not to come back, and if they did, we would not be quite as understanding.” He was quiet a moment. “Unless it’s not the Tralorians…”

“Is there anything else it could be?” Rose asked. The Doctor shook his head.

“So,” Dean said slowly, still trying to wrap his head around the idea of aliens. Weird, brain-sucking ones? Sure, he could handle that; it was like those stupid Sci-Fi shows Sam watched. But ones that wore trench-coats and had British accents? That was a little too much for Dean. “What do you want us to do?”

The Doctor smiled slightly. “Well, you’re Winchesters. You’re going to do what you do best—protect people from the scary ghosts and monsters under their beds.”

“Then why did we have to drag you and your friend here?” Dean asked a slight hint of annoyance in his tone. “Thanks for your help, but you can go back to Mars or wherever.” He gestured towards the TARDIS.

“Dean,” Sam muttered.

“It’s not quite that simple, Dean.” The Doctor turned and looked Dean in the eyes. Dean was surprised by the honesty and seriousness he found in the Doctor’s face. The raw emotion made Dean pause to listen.

“Fighting these things is dangerous. They’re practically unstoppable, and when they’re inside of you, they prey on your thoughts and suck you dry. The first time they were here, it was sheer luck your father and I found each other. If we hadn’t, I doubt either one of us would have made it.” The Doctor turned his bright eyes to Sam. “I can’t stop them alone; you can’t stop them alone, but together…” A smile spread across his face. “Johnny must have taught you, and from they way he used to talk, he seemed to think that some day the two of you together could be greater than he ever imagined. Together we can save these people.” The Doctor let those words hang in the air. “So, can you trust us?”

Dean stared at the Doctor, his icy blue eyes trying to figure this man out. Sam’s gaze darted back and forth between the two. Finally, Dean turned to his brother. “Can we talk about this?” He glanced back at Rose and the Doctor. “Alone?”

The Doctor nodded. “Ah. We’ll just step into our ship, then.” He opened the TARDIS door. “Just knock when you’re ready.” He stepped inside, and Rose followed.

Dean turned to his brother, who was gaping curiously at the TARDIS. “Sam,” he said. Sam finally tore his gaze away from the blue box. “Well, what do you think?”
Sam shrugged. An awed smile crossed his face, and he let out a breath. “It’s incredible.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “But do you believe it?”

Sam didn’t have to think. “Yeah, I do.” Dean’s eyebrows rose with suspicion. “It all fits. How else would he know all those things about Dad? Besides, he wants to help us, and he seems to know more about this than we do. I say we trust them.”

Dean looked at his younger brother as if he thought Sam had lost his mind. “Are you crazy?” Sam frowned. “We have no idea who these people are—if they’re even people at all! Are you really going to forget everything Dad taught you just because some guy claims he’s BFF’s with Spock?!”

Sam sighed angrily. “Dean, why can’t you just accept their help and trust them?”

“Because we’ve trusted strangers before, and it’s nearly gotten us killed!”

A tense silence hung in the air. “Well,” Sam said after a moment of thought, “we could always call Bobby.” It was most likely true that if John Winchester had been helped on a job by a trench-coat wearing alien, his best friend and co-hunter Bobby Singer would know about it.

Dean fumed for a moment. “Fine,” he muttered. “But if he is even the tiniest bit doubtful, they’re gone.” Dean walked over and pounded on the doors of the TARDIS as Sam pulled out his cell phone and dialed. When the Doctor poked his head out, Dean looked at him skeptically. “How do you both fit in there?”

The Doctor stepped out, Rose following close behind. “It’s bigger on the inside,” he explained. “So, have you decided yet?”

“Not quite,” Sam said the annoyance in his voice clear. He tipped the phone away from his mouth, the speaker still to his ear. “Dean wants to—Bobby?” Sam quickly brought the phone to his mouth. “Hey, it’s Sam…yeah, we’re fine, we just have a question…did Dad ever know anyone called The Doctor? Just the Doctor, no first—.” Sam fell silent as he was cut off. Dean could hear Bobby’s gravelly tones from across the room. It seemed like he was interrogating Sam, but not letting him get a word in edgewise. “Bobby…I don’t…look he’s right here, just ask him.” Sam shoved the phone at the Doctor. “Our friend—.”

“Oh, I know Bobby,” the Doctor said with a grin. He brought the phone to his ear. “Robert Singer! It’s been ages! Well, for me at least. How long…yes, I heard. I’m so sorry…well, we both know all about that. What? Oh, no, Sarah Jane’s fine, she just went her own way. Well, I love catching up, but I think Sam here called you for a reason…alright.” He held the phone out to Sam. “Good old Bobby hasn’t changed a bit.”

Sam took the phone back, and started explaining the situation to Bobby. Rose looked at the Doctor, who smiled reassuringly. “One of John’s friends. Brilliant hunter.” While they had waited in the TARDIS, the Doctor had explained to Rose how he knew the Winchesters and what exactly they did. After everything she had heard in the past from the Doctor, it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.

Sam brought the phone away from his ear. “Bobby wants to talk to all of us,” he said, pressing the speaker phone button.

“Alright, listen up.” Bobby’s deep, southern voice was made rougher by the crackly speaker in Sam’s phone. “Dean, I want you to work with the Doctor. Trust me; you won’t be able to do this without him. Now, I can’t come down and look after you, I’m on a job myself, so I want you all to be careful.”

Dean sighed, exasperated. “Bobby…”

Bobby’s voice was annoyed as well. “Shut up. Idjit.” Dean frowned. “Sam, that applies to you, too. Stay sharp.”

“Okay Bobby.”

“Can’t believe they came back,” he murmured. “Doctor, find out why those damn Tralorians are here again, and get ’em outta here. Now, I know you’re the professional and all, but Dean and Sam are practically John, and twice as strong. Let ’em help you.”

The Doctor smiled knowingly. “Yes, sir.”

“Good luck. You’re gonna need it, all of you.” There was a pause. It might have just been the bad connection, but it sounded like Bobby sighed. “And Doctor?”

“Yes, Robert?”

“Welcome back.” The line went dead.

Sam shut the phone. “Okay. So I guess you’re going to help us,” he said, looking at the Doctor and Rose.

The Doctor grinned. “Brilliant.”