SORRY FOR THE WAIT I've been really busy and I just forgot about this. There will be a sequel to this, and this chapter is the last chapter. Expect some ships to happen here. ;) WG2

Clara groaned, her knees aching. Sam came over and helped her stand up completely. Dean and Cas were fine though, and the two of them looked up and down the hallway. It was all metal.

"Alright. Sam, you and Clara go that way. Cas and I'll go this way." Dean pointed down to the right, and then nodded to the left. Sam and Clara nodded, and the hunter and his angel went off to the left. After a second, they went down the right.

After probably five minutes of walking, Clara broke the silence. She talked quietly, so she wouldn't alert Daleks of their presence.

"I know you were planning not to help." she said. Sam sighed.

"I'm sorry, I really am. Amy's a nice girl, but all this is just a bit confusing. John and Sherlock though, them and Dean and I have gone on quite a few cases together. We've all bonded since that day. Friends, maybe. But what happened with the Doctor and Cas, despite how much I like talking to the Doctor, it won't stop replaying in my mind."

Clara winced.

"It keeps bugging me, too." she whispered. "I've born, I've lived, I've died so many times, Sam."

He looked at her strangely.

She sighed.

"I'm not a supernatural creature. I jumped into the Doctor's time stream to save him, and it tore me apart. There are millions of me, through all of time and space, set there only to live and save and die for the Doctor. I saved him, and I've personally encountered his hate for those who prejudice against others. I've seen him talk down a man who hated Indians, I've seen him shame a man who was about to beat his slave into submission, I've seen him fight whole races to save a world from being conquered simply because it could be. I don't know why he's having such a hard time accepting angels and God are real."

"He seems like a purely scientific man, and some things don't make sense scientifically. I've asked Cas about it before, too. Something about molecules and atoms and weird things that I just can't remember for some reason."

"I guess humans just can't keep that information in our brains." Clara sighed. "Or TimeLords, even."

"Especially not TimeLords, probably." Sam replied. Clara nodded.

"Probably."

Dean and Cas walked along quietly. Noises and shouts and screams of a strange mechanical sort echoed around them, the sound of the TARDIS echoing down the halls. Shouts between the Doctor and Rory were faint, but he could still hear them.

A door opened to his left, making him jump almost out of his skin. A ginger woman and a dark-haired man stood there, surprised to see them.

"Sherlock? Amy? What are you doing?" he asked, exchanging a glance with Cas.

"I could ask you the same thing." Sherlock replied, just as curious. "Amelia and I figured out a way to get out."

"Oh, so you're being modest now." Dean raised an eyebrow. Sherlock shook his head.

"No, we both figured it out."

"I figured out where we were and how we could feasibly escape, and what one button meant. Sherlock figured out the rest." Amy explained.

Dean felt impressed, and almost smiled when he saw Sherlock looking extremely impressed.

"Well come on, then. I'll call Sam, hopefully the idiot was wise enough to have his phone on vibrate, and-" Dean broke off, looking down at his phone.

It was out of service.

Amy smiled and dug around in her pants.

Wait, pants? Amy had been in a dress when she was taken. A 40's style dress, because you know. She friggin' lived in the fourties. What was she doing in pants?

Dean looked up at Amy, who was showing her cellphone.

"This was all from my memory, Sherlock. I had my cell phone in this particular outfit. It was soniced." she grinned and showed that it had reception. She looked at Dean expectantly.

"What?" he asked.

"I need Clara's cell number. If she's been traveling with the Doctor, her phone has been soniced as well."

Dean gave it to Amy, and she called Clara.

Clara felt her phone vibrated in her sweatpants' pocket, and she pulled it out. She didn't recognize the number, but answered anyway.

"Hello?" she asked quietly.

"Clara? This is Amy."

Clara's eyes went wide, and she motioned to Sam with her lips soundlessly that it was Amy. Sam looked surprised.

"Amy, how are you calling me?"

"I'll explain later. Where are you?"

Clara looked around frantically for some explanation, and found a sign.

"Um, Hallway 7B, right near marker 78." she furrowed her brows. Why would the Daleks need markers?

Then she realized.

These weren't markers, these were all cages, prisons.

This was a prison ship.

The line clicked, and Clara dropped her phone, ignoring the clattering it made. Sam quickly picked the phone up as soon as it landed, wanting to stop the noise before it alerted anyone they were there.

"Clara, what's wrong?" he asked.

"This is a prison ship." she replied, her voice shaky. Memories were flooding back.

Oswin sat back in her chair…a dream. It had all been a dream. She closed her eyes peacefully, and ignored the agonizing pain when the fire hit her. The explosion was imminent, and when it happened, it tore her apart into little bits of pieces, and she could feel it. She died.

"Clara!" Sam's urgent whisper brought her back to reality, and she found Sam holding her head gently in his hands. Cas, Dean, Sherlock, and Amy were behind him. She was panting, and she closed her mouth, breathing quickly through her nose.

"Sam." she croaked.

"Hush." he replied quietly, bringing her into a tight hug. A slight pulling at her knees and middle told her that Cas had zapped them all back to the bunker.

Sam released her from his hug, but held onto her waist, helping her over to a chair. She sat down, and recovered.

The memories were coming quicker now, she realized, and were slowly separating her from reality. It hurt now, too. Clara closed her eyes tightly, wishing she was somewhere, someone else. She heard Amy calling the Doctor, the urgent quick speaking the Scottish woman did. She heard Dean and Cas talk quietly. She heard Sam pull out a chair next to her, and heard Sherlock talking to Amy as the TARDIS sounded in the bunker.

She heard footsteps and felt hands on her back, trying to bring her from leaning on the table, bring her around to face him. She opened her eyes and found the Doctor's face less than five inches from hers, his eyes worried and searching. She blacked out.

Amy and Rory gave the Doctor a hug, Amy exchanged a few words and a hug with Sherlock, and Cas winged them back to their home in 1938.

Clara was lying in her bed back at the Maitland's. The Doctor was with her, along with Sam. Dean had no doubt that Mr. Maitland had questions about why

Clara was passed out, and why her boyfriend, the Doctor, was bringing another guy into the house.

Cas wasn't back yet from taking the Williams back to 1938, so Dean was stuck in the room with Sherlock.

Sherlock was flipping through a book, and Dean was reading the bible-he'd promised Cas he would.

"Pass me my phone, John."

Dean looked up at Sherlock, who was flipping a page. His eyes flicked to the man's cell, which was literally five inches away from the edge of Sherlock's hand. Annoyance rose in him, and he sighed.

"Dean. The name's Dean." he remembered witnessing how lazy the detective could be on the hunts and cases he'd been on with the detectives and Sam.

"Yes, that's what I said."

Dean let it slide.

"What's the deal with you two, anyway?" he looked up at Sherlock, reading what he could from how Sherlock's body moved. Body language was key to finding out things about others.

Great. Now he was sounding as nerdy as Sam.

Well, almost as nerdy.

Sherlock looked up and fixed his icy eyes on Dean, the intense look making Dean squirm uncomfortably.

"I could ask you the same question about yourself and Castiel."

Dean forced himself to keep his face straight.

"So, nothing's happening between you two then."

"Obviously. John is my friend. Nothing more, nothing less. I approve of Mary, too. She's quite the woman." Sherlock replied, although his eyes showed that he suspected something was still up with Dean and Cas.

Dean heard wings flapping behind him and heard Cas' 'Hello Dean', before the angel went over and winged Sherlock out of the room and back to 221B.

"So you're her cousin." Mr. Maitland seemed disbelieving. Sam nodded brightly, the nanny's employer still hadn't let him follow the Doctor and Clara upstairs to her bedroom.

"Sam Winchester." he was grateful that Clara had told him her parent's name. "My mother was Ellie's sister."

Mr. Maitland squinted suspiciously.

"What's your mother's name?"

Sam felt lost. He didn't know what to answer, so he just went with the first word that came to mind when he thought of mothers.

"Mary."

"Okay, go on up." Mr. Maitland sighed, and unblocked the way. Sam forced himself to keep the surprise off his face, and ran up the stairs and into Clara's room.

The Doctor was sitting on Clara's bed, holding her hand. She was still unconscious. The alien had told Mr. Maitland that Clara had been exhausted from the night, and thankfully the man trusted the Doctor.

"Is she doing any better?" Sam asked.

"Her heartbeat is normal now, and her skin isn't flushing any more. Her forehead's still hot, though."

"Can you do anything? Like, go into her mind or something? Cas can go into someone's soul." he winced, remembering Cas's hand going into his own space, only to find there was no soul there.

"I can go into her mind." the Doctor replied softly, looking down at Clara gently. "It won't hurt, and I suppose I might be able to help."

Sam nodded.

"I'll keep an eye out."

The Doctor just blinked to show that he'd heard Sam's words.

The Doctor stared around. Clara's mind was a mess. Screaming, blood, echoes, all around him, along with his face plastered along her walls.

In the middle of it all, in one dark corner, a version of Clara laid on the floor, as if she'd been thrown off a building.

He shivered.

It was Victorian Clara. She had fallen off the cloud, except here her limbs were tangled and her hair was messed up, and blood surrounded her head. Her skin was ashen and cold when he pressed his hand to her forehead.

She started crumbling to dust when he let go, and she was ashes within seconds of him realizing what was happening.

He stood up and stared around.

Echoes of his name were being called, and hundreds of Claras were dying, screaming, laughing, crying, giving birth, getting married, smiling, stabbing, killing, and in the dead middle, one single Clara stood as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. She looked lonesome, so tired, so regretful. His heart reached out for her, and he walked over. She saw him coming, the only one that noticed him.

"Clara?" he asked.

"I am a part of her." the woman replied. Her voice was raspy, and her eyes were red. "I am the broken part of her. I am Clara's conscience. I am Clara's pain. I am Clara's fear. I am Clara's very being in this universe, and yet I am not her fully."

The Doctor was confused.

The broken woman smiled at him sadly.

"I have forgotten happiness. I have forgotten laughter. I have forgotten what a joy it is to have children and to love and to receive love. I have forgotten everything positive. Find the positive side of me, Doctor. Find the part of me you love, and bring her to me. We can merge, and save myself."

The Doctor shook his head, and he held the broken Clara's face gently, wiping away her tears.

"I love every part of you, Clara. The pain, the happiness. I love you, not what you pretend to be." he cried, the tears slipping down from his eyelids. The broken Clara before him smiled.

"I remember love now, Doctor." she let out a raspy laugh.

"You are Clara." he caressed her cheek. "You are my Clara, the only one I love, the only one I will ever love. You are my impossible girl, and I am here to help you."

The broken, war-ridden woman in front of him was quickly growing brighter and happier.

"Can you help me get rid of all of this?" she asked. Her voice was no longer broken or tired. It was hopeful.

"I can't." the Doctor replied quietly. "I can suppress it in your mind, so you don't remember it fully. You will remember what you want when you want, but forget it when you want just as easily."

Clara smiled, and lifted her hands to his face.

She brought him down, and he kissed her gently, feeling the depression and sadness pour out of her, leaving a happier, brighter woman.

Sam turned around when he heard a sharp intake of breath. He saw the Doctor's eyes were open, and Clara's eyes were opening.

"Clara?" Sam asked. "Clara, are you okay?" he started to walk over, but stopped and turned around awkwardly when the Doctor and Clara began to snog each other's faces off.

Yeah, she was okay.

The Doctor parked the TARDIS just outside the bunker, and let Clara take Sam outside to talk with him alone.

"Don't be afraid to call, Sam. We'll always help." she smiled up at him, and he smiled back down at her. They hugged, and let go a bit quicker than she would've liked.

"Take care, Sam." Clara smiled wide, and he grinned.

"Don't worry. I will."

"Oh, and I've figured out a plan to get rid of the ST around here." Clara winked. Sam listened closely as Clara explained, and he thanked her before she gave him another wink and disappeared into the TARDIS, which flew away.

He walked into the bunker and saw Dean and Cas sitting and talking at the table, right next to each other. Sam sat down in the chair across from them and gave Cas an extremely suggestive wink.

Sam peered over the top of the book to see Cas looking very confused. Dean looked absolutely furious, and took hold of Cas's face. Sam started to walk to his room, wincing when he heard Dean and Cas starting to get breathless from the kissing.

Needless to say, Sam kept earplugs in his ears the rest of the night.

AUTHORS NOTE

I hope you liked this J I found some GIF's on Tumblr and put them all together in my head as inspiration for this. Credit for some instances in this story go to whoever created the GIF's. Most of the storyline is mine, though. I do not own Doctor Who, Sherlock, or Supernatural. If I did, SUPERWHOLOCK would happen constantly. I mean, like CONSTANTLY. Like, every episode.

Like, forever.

And Destiel would be canon.

So would Whouffle.

And I kind of ship Pondlock so...yeah. I'd probably kill Rory off and let Amy and Sherlock fall in love and...

YEAH.

Basically, none of you want me to even go near the shows. :3 Because it would be too awesome to even describe.

Right now, in my mind, the perfect SuperWhoLock 'team' is 11, Clara, Sam, Dean, Cas, Sherlock, and John. I LOVE Mary Watson, and Sherlock/Mary are my canon BrOtp.

The way I see and write it, the Doctor, Sherlock, and Sam all like eachother. In this version of SuperWhoLock I have the Doctor not liking the idea of Angels and God, but he'd get used to it eventually. Dean and Clara would be my BrOtp if SuperWhoLock were canon. I see them as like, brother and sister. Dean's the sassy gay friend. ;)

John and Sam would be friends. John would also like hanging out with Dean, Cas, and Clara. Clara and Sam would love to get away and complain about all the unresolved sexual tension in Destiel. I did start thinking of Clara/Sam as a couple while writing this last chapter here, but that idea died when I started to ship Whouffle as my Otp.

I'm rambling now.

The sequel to this will be out soon, I promise!

Thanks for reading, and make sure to comment!

Love, WhouffleGirl02

Oh, some final notes about the storyline. Amy and Rory live out that happy life. Clara and the Doctor are now in lurve and are snogging each other's face off now. Sam kept his earplugs in for no reason, I do not write smut nor do I ever want to. In my mind, Dean and Cas just kept on kissing for the rest of the night.