2009

"Oh, I have been wanting to say this for a long time," Dean muttered, taking a fleeting look at the woman to make sure he had enough time before she was fully flesh, "Doctor, you are a brilliant, brave and utterly amazing son of a bitch, but you are wrong! Killing this woman is exactly the right thing to do, and one day, one day you will know why, but for now, you're simply going to have to trust me! And yes, Doc, I know for a fact that you don't, and yes, I know you don't like me, but I'm going to show you one thing, and one thing only that will make you believe that I'm someone you can trust."

The Doctor stared at him for a moment even as Dean unbuttoned the top few buttons on his shirt, much like a scientist examining a rare specimen, and stated simply, coldly "You are a murderous thug and a liar. Why should I trust you?"

Dean said nothing, merely lowered his shirt. The Doctor recoiled as if he was struck, unable to remove his eyes from the markings on his chest. On one side was an ink marking of a pentagram encircled by flame, while the other was a similar marking but was an intricate binding of circles wrapped together to spell out a word in ancient Gallifreyan that The Doctor could read with ease.

"...Why?" The Doctor inquired, barely mustering enough strength to be heard.

"Because in your future," Dean answered, "I am someone that you trust and, more importantly, we put our lives on the line for each other, time and time again. And when the shit finally hits the fan, that's when all this matters, because you, Doc, are a pompous douche but you're family, same as this raincoat wearing nerd behind me and as that wheelchair bound drunk back in South Dakota! So sack up and take a leap, Doc, or there's the devil to pay!"

The Doctor stared at him, simply unable to say anything in the face of such genuine emotion. It was a rare thing in his life, to be so utterly lost and, yet, he knew in his heart that Dean was telling the truth.

"I'm not a nerd," Castiel complained.

"Shut up," Dean countered.

The Doctor issued a chuckle, unable to stop himself.

"To days to come," he whispered, "Very well."

Castiel wordlessly withdrew his sword and stabbed Darla in the heart. A bright light emitted from the woman; none of the men looked away, forcing themselves to see the act. The Doctor took a deep breath once it was over and closed his eyes, lowering his head as if in prayer.

In many ways, he was...

XXX

2002

Sam collapsed into a heap at the foot of the bed, drawing both The Doctor and River. The Doctor scanned Sam with his screwdriver, focusing on his head and arm.

He flipped it up, letting the prongs loose, "Mild concussion, full breakage of the ulna. A few months in a splint and some bed rest and he'll be fine."

"Doctor," River started, "What now?"

"Nothing," The Doctor answered, rising to his feet with a pat of Sam's shoulder, "See you around, Sam Winchester."

"We're just going to leave him here?" River demanded, completely flummoxed.

"Of course," The Doctor muttered, turning away, "The angel is gone, Sam will be fine, off we pop."

River stared at him in complete shock for a long moment before sighing and turning away from him, sitting down on Sam's bed and staring directly at him with a look of disapproval.

"What?" The Doctor extended his arms in confusion.

"What? Really?" River demanded, "That's all you can say for yourself? What?!"

"Yes, what?" The Doctor asked again, sighing in resignation.

"Sam Winchester is our friend!" River raged, coming to her feet, "He was with us at Stonehenge, he and Dean fought at Demon's Run to rescue Amy, he gave his life for the Earth and-"

"And he did all those things and he will do all those things," The Doctor spoke to her as if she were a particularly stupid child, "But for now, to him, we're nothing but a creepy doctor and professor hunting angels. Right now, he needs to be alone, he wants to be alone, and if that means a broken arm, so be it."

"But you could help him!" River growled.

"Then why don't you," The Doctor inquired, "Why must it always be me?"

River looked at him as though he had lost his mind, "Because you are The Doctor!"

The Doctor scoffed, turning away from her and stalking back to the door.

"Coming?" he asked, as though he barely cared.

"Don't do this, Doctor," River pleaded, moving closer to him but not far from Sam, "Don't shut me out!"

The Doctor stared at her for a moment, his mouth open partly, as though something lay on the tip of his tongue. Silently, he steeled himself and shut his mouth completely, not even whispering goodbye as he turned and walked away.

River mourned for him, "Oh, sweetie. How lost you must be."

She turned to look at Sam, knowing full well that one day he would have that same look on his face.

XXX

2009

Dean, Castiel and The Doctor rode back to the TARDIS in silence. Dean was lost in his own thoughts with regards to Sam and Lucifer and how the war between Heaven and Hell was destroying the world. He thought fleetingly about the prospect of saying 'yes' to Michael, but he simply refused. He would not give in, not once, not an inch, and he would go down swinging.

The Doctor, meanwhile, thought back to an event in his Fourth life, a day when he had had a chance to stop the Daleks. Then, he had genuinely had an opportunity to stop a great evil from ever rising, but instead he had let it come to pass, simply because he did not believe he had the right to commit genocide. Oh, certainly, he had come back later to correct that decision, but by then, his actions could only delay the rising of his most hated enemies. Seeing Dean there with a great weight on his shoulders made him wonder if he had just faced a similar moment and had taken the other course.

Castiel, however, was sitting awkwardly in the front seat, simply torn between saying something to end the silence or just...sitting and staring.

In the end, he decided to try and strike a conversation.

"Doctor," he started, shaking the two out of their thoughts, "Would you let us see your TARDIS?"

Dean looked over at Castiel and asked, "We've already seen the TARDIS."

"One version of it," Castiel stated, "New Doctor, new TARDIS."

"Except that's not how it was, it was always the same," Dean replied.

"In my future," The Doctor concluded, "As it is, yes, Cass, you are welcome to see my TARDIS. She's a grand ol' thing, gentlemen."

"That she is," Dean readily agreed.

"Dean," The Doctor began, "I realize perfectly well that you can break my jaw or nose or whatever other body part you'd like, but I'd like to ask you about your brother."

"Doc, no," Dean said, "Just no."

"Just tell me this," The Doctor said, "When was the first time you saved him?"

Dean looked back at The Doctor in something akin to shock.

"It was easy to work out," The Doctor answered the silent question, "Now, when was the first time you saved him?"

"...I was four," Dean answered, not quite sure why he was, "There was a fire. My Dad called me over, told me to get Sam outside as fast as I could."

"And you did," The Doctor concluded, "And you've saved him many times since, the latest having occurred today. A proper hero."

"I ain't a hero," Dean answered, "I'm just a murderous thug tryina kill even worse things."

"I apologize," The Doctor said immediately.

"No worries," Dean waved him off, "You've said worse."

"You have," Castiel agreed, "And, incidentally, here we are."

"Ah, there she is," The Doctor smiled as Dean pulled up alongside the TARDIS, "Hello, darling."

The blue police box (circa 1963) sat at a random corner off Main Street, looking for all the world like some random blue box. Inside, however, lay the universe.

"I can't wait to see this," Dean said as they got out of the car, "Hope it's not that grunge crap."

"Dean," Castiel said a bit sharply.

"I know, I know, no spoilers," Dean replied.

"You two argue like an old married couple," The Doctor smiled as he pulled out his keys, only to pause and turn to look at them, "Are you married?"

"What?! No!" Dean argued, more than a little off-put by The Doctor's remarks.

"Do we seem...married?" Castiel asked, a little curious.

"Shut up!" Dean shushed him, "No more married crap, we are not married!"

"Thou doth protest too much, methinks," The Doctor singsonged, thoroughly enjoying making Dean uncomfortable.

"Oh, God, you never ever change," Dean whined, "Open the damn box already!"

"Very well, then," The Doctor smiled, "Come take a look."

The Doctor pushed the doors open, standing aside to allow them through first. Dean and Castiel went through, feeling the same rush of vertigo that they always felt when first going through the TARDIS, though they easily adjusted. Unlike the one they had previously been through, this one had a different series of doors. Instead of simple police box doors, this one had double doors made of stone. The console room was strikingly different than they were used to, instead of a grunge metallic look, this one was more of a Victorian room, plenty of couches and chairs, bookshelves lining the room and the console itself a little off-center of the room. The console, like the other one, went up to the ceiling and had a bronze steampunk look to it, with a series of tools and a toolbox lined around it. The entire room was darkly lit, as several dozen candles lit the room, making for a flickering hue that made the room appear to jump erratically.

The Doctor smiled and gave his console an affectionate pat, moving over to his chair and withdrawing his screwdriver to heat his tea up again.

"I have to admit," Castiel said as The Doctor sat down, "I do prefer this look over the other. It's homely."

"Definitely not as weird," Dean agreed, sitting down in one of the chairs and popping his feet up on a table.

The Doctor coughed loudly, drawing Dean's attention, and looked pointedly at his feet. Dean nodded and put his feet down. Castiel shook his head lightly and idly kicked an ottoman over to him, taking a seat himself and getting comfortable.

"Don't you ever take that coat off?" The Doctor inquired.

"I like it," Castiel stated, a little defensively.

"Yeah, you would," Dean teased lightly, "So, Doc, got any grub in this dump?"

"I'll thank you not to speak of my TARDIS in such a manner," The Doctor replied, "But, I do have a kitchen."

"Are you traveling alone?" Castiel asked.

The Doctor became a bit uncomfortable at that, but answered, "For now, yes. Lucie was traveling with me, but...events occurred."

"Shit happens," Dean agreed.

"Is that why you're no longer traveling with Sam? Shit happened?" The Doctor inquired.

Dean sighed, sitting back in his chair silently for a moment before, finally, he said, "Sam chose to go with someone evil, Doc. Truly evil, and because of that, the world is about to end."

"Sam was convinced he was right," Castiel interrupted, sticking up for him in his absence.

"So?" Dean countered, "Last I checked, the road to Heaven ain't paved with good intentions."

"Quite right," The Doctor agreed, releasing a world weary sigh.

The three settled into a companionable silence for a moment, one broken when The Doctor suddenly stood up and clapped his hands together, drawing the others' attentions.

"Gentlemen," he announced, "It's time I was off. If, however, you would like to accompany me on a trip, I'd be delighted!"

"No thanks, Doc," Dean stated, climbing to his feet, "I've got work I need to do here."

"Of course," The Doctor smiled, extending his hand, "Dean Winchester, it's been...quite the experience."

"As always, Doc," Dean enthusiastically shook his hand, "You take care."

"Always," The Doctor lied genially, "And, Dean, Kansas City is quite beautiful this time of year."

Dean gave The Doctor a strange look and turned away from him, not quite sure how to take that.

"Castiel," The Doctor clapped hands with the angel, "It's been a pleasure."

Castiel seemed hesitant for a moment, as though he wanted to say something.

"Cass?" Dean asked, wondering if his friend was ok.

Castiel sighed and said, "Dean...my hunt hasn't been going well."

"Go," Dean said immediately, "Just get back to around this time, ok?"

"You're sure?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah, you're run ragged, man," Dean stated, "Everyone needs a break, now and again. Lemme get my necklace back, though."

"Of course," Castiel said, withdrawing it from his coat and handing it over to Dean.

"That necklace is special?" The Doctor inquired.

"Christmas gift," Dean said, staring down at it for a moment before putting it back on.

"Doctor," Castiel spoke, "May I accompany you?"

"Cass, Cass, Cass," The Doctor smiled, "Where to?"

"Another world," Castiel smiled slightly, "Somewhere far from here."

"Very good," The Doctor said, leaping towards the console, "Dean, we'll see you later!"

"Goodbye, Dean," Castiel said.

"Later, man," Dean waved goodbye as he walked through the double-doors and back out to the street.

Dean leaned on his car for a moment, watching as the TARDIS began to make that groaning, wheezing noise that announced its imminent departure. He hoped Cass would be alright.

He had to admit, he was tempted to run away with The Doctor again, but the last time they had done so had turned out much worse than they'd thought possible. In the end, Dean had learned very well from his time with The Doctor that, no matter how far or how fast you run, you can't outrun your past.

That was why he said no to The Doctor, and why he would continue to say no to Michael. If he was going to go down, then he would go down fighting, not running.

Dean sighed, breaking himself from his musing, and sat down in the driver's side of his car. He cranked it up and turned on the radio, letting Metallica's Enter Sandman take him away.

After calling Bobby and downloading to him, Dean decided to take The Doctor's advice and make for Kansas City, if only because he had nowhere better to go.