"America!" The Doctor waved his arms around, showing off the American town that he and Clara were in. "The land of freedom," he said to Clara, adopting a terrible accent, before swaggering off, Clara not far behind.

"Why did the TARDIS bring us here?" Clara's voice echoed out, and the Doctor spun, whipping out his sonic screwdriver, scanning the street.

"Don't know," he said cheerfully, checking the scans on his screwdriver. "Let's find out, shall we?" He sauntered down the road, following an invisible signal on his screwdriver, and Clara ran to catch up.

"What are you looking for?" She asked, hooking her arm around the Doctor's.

"There's a strange energy signal coming from somewhere around here." He hit the screwdriver on the palm of his hand. "The screwdriver is struggling to tell what it is and where it's originating from, so I thought we could check it out." Eventually he stopped outside of a motel, with several cars pulled up outside

"The signal is coming from here? A cheap American motel?" Clara asked as the Doctor hit his screwdriver on his palm again.

"Seems so," he said, and followed the signal again, leading them to a room on the ground floor, with an old car out the front. "In fact, it is originating in this room. Shall we have a look?" He turned to Clara, grinning a manic grin. She smirked back, and rapped on the door.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dean was having a crappy day. They'd gone after a ghost, a simple salt 'n burn, and had ended up putting stitches in each other, and popping Sam's shoulder back in. Cas's mojo was playing up again, and therefore he couldn't heal either of them, and was also suffering a concussion. They had stumbled back to the motel room, Stitched up his leg, popped Sam's shoulder in, and iced Cas's concussion, and were sort of wallowing in a pain-filled stupor when there was a knock on the door.

Still wary, Dean reached for the knife under his pillow and Cas tensed, and Sam cautiously answered the door. There was a man in the door in the most outrageous outfit that Dean had ever seen. He was wearing a bowtie, with red suspenders, and a tweed jacket. He held a metal stick-thingy with a green end and he had an over-excited look in his green eyes. When he saw them looking at him, he stuffed the stick-thing in his pocket, and pulled out a leather wallet, flipping it open to reveal a government badge. "Ministry of weird energy signals," he said, closing the wallet and placing it back into his pocket. "May we come in?" He had a British accent, Dean noted, and opened his mouth to retort when the man froze, staring at Cas. "Oh, look at you!" He said, withdrawing the metal sick thingy again, and Dean's hand closed tighter around his knife, and Cas tensed and moved away from the man.

"Hey!" he snapped, and the man froze, putting the metal thing in his pocket. "Who the hell are you? 'Cause you're definitely not ministry of… weird signals or whatever you said, there's no such thing. And leave Cas alone!"

The man backed away, hands in the air, eyes wide. "Sorry," another voice said from the doorway, and they turned to see a girl, in a forties-style dress and black ankle boots, standing in the doorway. "I'm Clara, and this is the Doctor." Clara smiled at Dean, and Sam stuck out his hand. "I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean, and he-" he pointed at Cas. "Is Castiel, our friend."

The Doctor grinned at Cas. "I like your wings," he said suddenly.

Cas jerked back in surprise and Sam and Dean stared at the man in shock, whilst Clara just sighed, before hissing, "You can't just say stuff like that!"

The Doctor blushed slightly. "Sorry. I thought everybody could see them. Is it a secret?"

Dean recovered, and pushed the man into the wall, pressing the knife to his throat, ignoring Clara's cry of protest. "What the hell are you? Eh? Angel? Or some other creature? 'Cause you're definitely not human."

The Doctor blanched, glancing at the knife at his throat. "I'm a Time Lord," he said softly, and he vaguely heard Cas's sharp inhale of breath.

"What's a Time Lord? A type of trickster?"

It was Cas who answered. "A Gallifreyan? I thought they were all dead."

Dean glanced at Cas in confusion. "I have no idea what any of that means," he said. "Can someone explain to us poor humans?"

"Gallifreyans were… one of the first of my Father's creations." Cas replied. "They were gifted with time travel, and near immortality, and they were wardens of time, protecting it and preventing people from abusing time travel."

Dean snorted. "So, what, he's an immortal alien?"

"Practically, yes."

"Can you… put the knife away?" The Doctor said, and Dean placed it on the table beside the bed. "What are you?" He asked, looking at Cas.

"I am an Angel of the Lord," Cas said, giving his standard reply.

Clara choked. "I'm sorry, an Angel? As in, a biblical Angel?" Cas just nodded.

"Ooh!" The Doctor exclaimed, grinning ecstatically. "I've never met an Angel before!" He went up and shook Cas's hand. "How come I've never picked up your energy signals before?"

Cas looked confused. "I was giving off energy?"

"Yes, look," the Doctor said, bleeping him with the glowy stick-thingy before showing it to Cas. Cas frowned as he looked at it, almost as if he was reading something.

"What the hell is that?" Dean asked, eying the green stick-thingy warily.

"Sonic screwdriver," the Doctor said dismissively. "But do you normally give off energy like that?"

Cas frowned and shook his head. "No, we have never given off energy."

The Doctor frowned. "That's strange. But you're giving off enough energy to power a solar system for at least a thousand years."

"What?" Sam said, gaping at Cas. "For a thousand years?"

"At least," said the Doctor. "Maybe longer. Do you usually give off energy like that?"

Cas shook his head, frowning. "It might have something to do with my malfunctioning Grace, but Grace doesn't usually give off energy. If it did, though, it would probably give off energy of that size."

"Grace?" the Doctor asked.

"My life force, practically. The Angel equivalent of a human soul."

"So, it's powerful."

Sam snorted. "Understatement. Grace is like… nuclear energy times a million, except its pure creation, not destruction."

Clara frowned. "If we can pick it up, what else can? Would anything come after Cas to use the energy?"

"That's what I'm afraid of," said the Doctor warily. "What could come after him to get that."

"Whatever it is, we can deal," Dean said firmly. "No need for your help."

"No, not this," the Doctor said. "You won't win against this."

Dean laughed hollowly. "Dude, we beat the Devil himself. I'm sure we can handle… whatever is coming."

The Doctor shook his head. "You don't understand. There are billions and billions of other life forms in the universe, and any one or everyone could be receiving the signal his grace is putting off. Anything could be coming, and earth will be plunged into a war with the rest of the universe, with everyone out to get him." He nodded at Cas. "Earth is not prepared for that. It will be slaughter."

"Then what do we do?" Sam asked. "Do we hide Cas, or something?"

Clara pursed her lips. "We could try and fix his Grace, I guess."

The Doctor grinned. "We'll start looking for answers. Do you know why your Grace is malfunctioning?"

Cas frowned. "No, it just... isn't working. It feels strange though, like something is leeching from it."

The Doctor scanned him again. He looked at his screwdriver, gauging the readings, then froze. "Oh, no," he whispered. He looked up, his eyes ragged. "I know what is causing your Grace to malfunction."

"What? What is it?" Said Dean, leaping up. "If we know what it is, we can stop it, can't we?"

The Doctor shook his head. "We need to go back to the TARDIS." He said to Clara, and she nodded and turned to go. "You should all come, as well."

"A… what the hell is a TARDIS?" Said Dean.

"My spaceship!" The Doctor exclaimed as he ran out the door.

Dean turned to Cas and Sam. "Should we follow him?"

Sam shrugged. "Fine by me," he said, and Cas nodded. So they followed the Doctor and Clara out the door and onto the street, stopping by the Impala, grabbing guns and knives. Then they ran after the Doctor and Clara as they sauntered down the street.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Clara ran up to the Doctor, and wrapped her arm around his. "What is it, then?" She asked, looking up at him as he puzzled over his screwdriver.

"Only one creature would have the technology to do this, without his knowing, apart from the Time Lords," he said. "Daleks. Although I don't know how they knew he was there, I have never even heard of Angels."

"Daleks?" Clara exclaimed. "Oh god, they really have no idea what they're up against, do they," she said, sighing. "We'll need to stop them, then."

Just then the world shifted, and they found themselves in a room, Sam, Dean and Castiel stumbling around behind them. "Ow." the Doctor winced "I hate transmats."

Dean leaned into the corner and threw up. "What was that?" he said hoarsely, wincing against the pounding headache that was plaguing them all.

"Transmat," said the doctor. "Sort of a rough teleport, if you like."

"It sucks," said Sam, leaning on Cas. "Everyone okay?"

There was a chorus of 'yes' from around the room. Sam nodded then stood up, wincing. "Does anyone know what did that?"

"The Daleks," the Doctor said.

"What?" Dean sputtered. "That has to be made up. There is no way that's a word."

"Trust me, it is." The Doctor said darkly.

"The Daleks have no regard for any other life," Clara explained. "Their main objective in life is to destroy anything different."

"Anything different?" Sam said, aghast.

"Even if a Dalek becomes mutated, they'll kill that, too," said the Doctor.

"That's… that's extreme," Sam said. "So… how do we kill one?"

The Doctor frowned. "Is that how you solve stuff? By killing it?"

"How else are you suggesting we get out of this?" Dean retorted. "Sit down and have a chat? Drink tea? The stuff we do isn't preferable, and I wouldn't wish this life on anyone else, but that doesn't mean we just… chat it out. Not in this life. If you don't shoot first ask questions later, you get killed."

"Then what makes you better than the monsters?" The Doctor argued.

"We don't try and destroy the world!" Dean yelled. "We have lost everyone we loved, Sam, Cas and I have died, I was tortured in hell for forty years, Sam was trapped in the cage with the actual Devil for over 120 years. We had to put a block on his mind so he wouldn't go insane. We sacrificed everything to keep the world safe. Do not compare us with… monsters like them."

"You think I don't know pain like that?" the Doctor shouted. "I blew up my planet - my own people – to keep the universe safe. I committed genocide on my own people." They stared at him, shocked. "Everyone I love is either dead or scarred for life, and it's my fault. I have watched people that mean the world to me die in agony for the sake of saving the world, the universe. Do not speak to me about loss, about pain, like I don't know what it is. I… I destroy anything I touch, anyone who touches me."

"You blew up your planet?" Sam whispered. "I know that it won't help in any way, but… I'm sorry."

The Doctor looked away. "I've had time to deal with it," he said softly. "Can we work on getting out of here?"

Dean straightened. "Right. What can you tell us that we need to know about Daleks?" he said. "Also, is there a way we can tell where we are?"

The Doctor took out his screwdriver, scanning the area. "We're still in the same town, just in a different building. Also, we seem to be stuck in some sort of time loop-thingy."

"A time loop?" Clara exclaimed.

"More like a second out of synch with the rest of the universe," said the Doctor. "The energy readings are huge, though. The Daleks are using a lot of energy to keep you contained," he said to Cas. "They really want you."

"They can't have him," said Dean immediately.

"We won't let them take him, don't worry," said Clara. "We've stopped them every time before, we'll be able to stop them this time."

The Doctor was still frowning. "The energy readings are worrying, though. They're using enough energy to rip cracks in reality."

"What?" Sam exclaimed. "That's really bad, isn't it?"

The Doctor nodded. "There are already small tears appearing. They're all focused on this building, though."

Dean walked over to the window, reaching out for the handle. As soon as he touched it, there was a zapping noise, and he recoiled, rubbing his hand. The Doctor scanned the window with his screwdriver, frowning. "Whoa," he said, pulling back from the window.

"What is it?" said Sam.

"There are over a thousand volts running through the window," he said. "Just… don't touch the windows, okay."

"A thousand volts? Of electricity?"

"Yep," said the Doctor. He went over to the door, placing a cautious hand on the handle, and pushing open the door when it didn't shock him.

"They didn't lock the door?" Questioned Clara. "Why would they do that?"

"I don't know," The Doctor replied. "But it won't be good. We should look for a way out."

They all stepped into the hall, and Sam and Dean drew their guns. The Doctor winced but said nothing, and they cautiously walked through the hall. There was a metallic almost tinny voice from the distance, and the Doctor and Clara pulled them back. They peered around the corner, and as the tinny voice became clearer and closer, around the corner rolled…

A pepper pot. It literally looked like an oversized salt shaker, with a stalk-like thing poking out the top, with a black ball with a glowing blue centre stuck to the end. "Is that… a Dalek?" Dean whispered to Sam. "Dude, that looks like a salt shaker."

Sam elbowed him. "Shut up," he hissed. "It'll find us."

Dean snickered. "It has a toilet plunger for a hand."

It did indeed. It also had a whisk like thing extremely close to it, and little glowing light bulbs on the side of its domed head.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam said again, but he was smirking as well. By the time the salt-shaker thing left the room, the boys were collapsed in silent laughter.

"What is with you two?" Clara hissed.

"Just… that was a Dalek?" Dean said, then broke into giggles.

Clara's lips twitched. "It does look ridiculous, I agree. But the whisk thing is a gun, so be careful."

They composed themselves, then sneaked into the room, the doctor locking the door behind them. "It won't hold them for long, but we should be gone by the time they get it open."

"Can we find the Transmat and Transmat out?" Clara asked, leaning on the control desk in the centre of the room.

The Doctor grinned. "Genius, Clara!" He hugged her, kissing her forehead "We'll go to the Transmat, and hack the controls. We'll get out of here." He unlocked the door, and it slid open.

Behind the door stood three Daleks. As the Doctor focused on his screwdriver on the controls, a Dalek fired his gun at it, and it sparked, dead. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," said the Doctor, putting his hands up in front of him, and stepping in front of the other people in the room.

"YOU-WILL-MOVE," one said, its metallic voice echoing, and its light bulbs pulsing every time it said a syllable. "GIVE-US-THE-ANGEL-AND-YOU-WILL-LIVE."

"No," snapped Dean, "I'll die before you can have him."

"Dean," the Doctor said softly.

"They aren't having him," Dean mumbled.

"I know," said Clara. "But we have to stay calm."

"YOU-HAVE-ONE-HOUR," said a Dalek, before all three rolled away. As soon as they left, the Doctor burst into action.

"Right," he said. "We need to get to the Transmat. They'll be back in an hour, and we'll be long gone by then, hopefully."

"Where is the Transmat, anyway?" said Clara.

"I'm working on that," the Doctor said, scanning the control, which was still sparking. Soon, a hologram map popped up, flickering with the draining power. He pointed to a spot on the map, a seemingly empty room near the top floor of the building. He scanned it again, downloading the map onto his screwdriver. Then he froze. "Oh, no," he whispered.

"What?" said Dean, "What's wrong?"

"This was the power storage unit, and it's leaking."

"The energy that's draining my grace?" Cas asked. The Doctor nodded.

"Oh, god," Sam whispered. "That isn't good, is it?"

"The cracks in reality are widening, and things are leaking through."

"What sort of things?" Clara asked.

"Things from the future, things from the past, you name it."

"We need to get out of here," Dean said firmly. "Concentrate on that, then on closing the cracks."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Doctor took the lead, following a path on his screwdriver, and the others followed behind, Dean bringing up the rear. "We're almost there," said the Doctor, spinning as if pulled by a thread. He turned a corner, and froze. They tried to follow, but the Doctor pushed them back, a ragged look on his face. "You don't want to see," he said. "Trust me."

"Why?" Clara said. "What's there?"

He glanced at them nervously, a shell-shocked look in his eyes. "You know how I said that things were leaking out of the cracks?"

Dean and Sam pushed past the Doctor, and froze. On the floor, less than two feet away from the door, lay them. Their bodies lay on the floor, piled on top of each other. Dean walked over to where Sam's body was lying, and reached out and touched his face. "It's us," he whispered hoarsely. "Doctor, what happened?"

"You die here," said the Doctor quietly, looking away, a tortured look on his face. "And there is nothing I can do to stop it."

"Where am I?" Cas said quietly, and the Doctor just looked away. "They get me don't they?" he said, and the Doctor nodded sadly. "They kill you all and then they get me."

"And then they use you to destroy the universe," the Doctor said hoarsely.

"No." Dean's voice echoed through the corridor. "No. They will not get you. We will change the future, and they will not get Cas." He yelled the last bit to the corridor, challenging anyone to try and take him. "We need to get to the Transmat room."

The Doctor nodded, leading them away. They were quiet as they walked up the stairs, towards the top floor.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"What happens if we don't die, and we get out of here?" Sam asked, out of the blue.

"It causes a paradox," the Doctor replied. "Which will probably close the cracks, taking care of that problem."

"So all we have to do is not die?" Dean asked, smirking. "We're masters at that."

The Doctor stopped outside a room, grinning ecstatically. "That might be easier than we thought! We're here!"

"The Transmat room?" Clara asked, her eyes widening in excitement.

"Yep," the Doctor said happily, quickly unlocking the door with his screwdriver. They all pushed it open, running inside, eager to escape.

They didn't expect to see what was on the inside.

Cas lay on the floor, blood pooling near his back, staining his trench coat. There was a pool of blood next to him, and Dean, Sam and Clara could only imagine what caused that. The Doctor and Cas could see differently, though. They saw a pair of charcoal black wings, dripping with blood, the feathers broken and torn. The Castiel lying on the floor looked up weakly, glancing at them all. "Dean…" he whispered hoarsely, and Dean walked over to him, kneeling down beside him. "Dean…" he whispered again, and then he was still, eyes glassy and lifeless.

"Oh, my god," Clara said, horrified. Their Cas just turned and ran out of the room. Dean followed him into the corridor, leaving them frozen, with Cas's body lying still on the floor.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Hey, man, you okay?" Dean said, sitting down next to where Cas was slumped against the wall.

"They tore out my wings," Cas whispered, shocked. "They tore out my wings."

"Not yet," Dean said firmly. "Not if I can help it."

"No, you don't understand," Cas said, his eyes wide with fear. "Tearing out my wings would be equivalent to ripping out someone's heart. And because we saw it, it will ensure that it will happen, that it will always happen." He shook, whether it be in fear or shock, Dean didn't know.

"But if you survive, if we just get out, it won't happen. I promise you, no-one will touch your wings. I promise I'll keep you safe," He said firmly, wrapping his arms around his friend.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Cas and Dean walked back into the room, where the Doctor was fiddling over the controls. Everyone gave a wide berth around Cas- around the body on the floor (Dean still couldn't accept that it was Cas, his blue eyes laying empty on the ground, because Cas had died before, but not like this, not in so much pain it hurt to look at and he just couldn't accept that). The wings had burned themselves into charcoal imprints on the floor, where they looked broken and mangled.

"How's it going, Doc?" Dean asked, and the Doctor hit the controls with his hand.

"It's fried," he said sadly. "The controls in the other room must have powered this as well."

Dean swore. "Is there another way out of this?"

The Doctor shook his head sadly. "Not that I can see. The good thing, though, is that the Daleks don't have enough Transmat power to get Castiel back to their ship, so the universe is safe from that, at least." He grinned slightly, but it dropped quickly. "The cracks will still swallow the multiverse, though."

"Well, that's just brilliant," Sam said bitterly. "Freaking Daleks."

"That just sums them up, practically," the Doctor muttered. "We're stuck. But, on the other hand, they may not have enough power to hold up the shields around the windows, so we could get out that way."

"Do they have enough power for that?" Clara asked.

"Well, not on the top three floors," The Doctor said nervously.

"Top three out of how many?" Cas said.

"Well, er, ten," the Doctor said unhappily.

"So we can jump to our deaths or go death by Dalek." Dean groaned. "Is there any other way to survive?"

"We could cause a paradox in another way," Cas said quietly, before his eyes widened and he turned and ran out of the room with a faint 'I have an idea!' echoing after him. They ran after him, and froze.

Outside the door were four Daleks, and Cas was standing in front of them, his back rigid, his eyes narrowed.

"YOUR-HOUR-IS-UP," one Dalek said, its tinny voice echoing throughout the room. "GIVE-US-THE-ANGEL."

"No!" Dean shouted, stepping in front of Cas, gun outstretched. "You're not having him!"

"Dean," Cas murmured, putting a hand on his arm, and Dean lowered the gun.

"Why do you need him?" The Doctor asked. "You don't have enough power to use him as power."

"REPAIRS-ARE-BEGINNING," the second Dalek said stiffly, "THE-ANGEL-IS-VITAL."

"How did you even know about angels, when the Time Lords didn't?" The Doctor said, eyes narrowed in confusion.

"DID-YOU-NOT-FEEL-IT? THE-ENERGY-FLARE?"

"The fall," Sam whispered.

"What?" the Doctor said. "What fall?"

"A couple of years ago, there was an Angel that closed the gates of heaven, causing all angels except his followers to fall from heaven, and pretty much all angels became human at once. They literally fell from the sky." Sam explained.

"Oh, I heard about that," the Doctor said. "The weird meteorites, right?"

"Yep," Sam said.

"I was busy with an exploding TARDIS at the time, or else I would've gone and had a look."

"WE-CAPTURED-ONE-AS-IT-FELL-AND-WE-LEARNT-OF-THEIR-SPECIES. THE-ONE-WE-CAPTURED-DIED-BEFORE-WE-COULD-USE-ITS-POWER." The Dalek said. "IT-CALLED-ITSELF-NANAEL."

Cas winced. Another of his siblings killed.

"Right," The Doctor said cheerfully, pulling his screwdriver out of his pocket, and aiming it at the door. "We'll be going." He flicked the button, and a door Cas hadn't seen slid shut, blocking the Daleks from view. He turned to Cas, putting his screwdriver in his pocket. "Right. What was your idea?"

"Can we get to the roof from here?" Was all he said, knowing his plan would not go down well with the others. The Doctor nodded, and led them to a fire escape up the corridor. Cas ran up the stairs, the others following. He got to the roof, and ran to the thin ledge that ran around the perimeter, before pulling himself on top of it.

"What are you doing?" Dean shouted, running to the edge and grabbing his wrist. "Get Down!"

"I can't," he said sadly. "Doctor, will my death cause a paradox, if I die twice here, in this building, on this day?"

The Doctor nodded sadly.

"No!" Dean cried again, shaking his head in defiance. "We'll find another way, we always do, we're Winchesters!"

"This is the only way," Cas said sadly. "And if it works, I probably won't stay dead for long. Push me, please, if it helps."

"I- I can't do that!" Dean Said. "Would you ever be able to do that to me? To any of us?"

"If it saves you, yes." Cas whispered.

The Doctor closed his eyes and bent his head in sorrow, because he had seen it before, on another roof, with a couple saying almost the exact same, all to save their life.

Which is why he wasn't surprised when Dean stood up beside a protesting Castiel.

"If I die here, will it strengthen the paradox? Doctor, will it?" Dean said.

"Yes," he whispered. "But please don't."

Sam and Clara reached the top of the building, just in time to see Cas's protests and Dean's question, and Sam ran forward. "Dean!" he cried, vaguely hearing the Doctors whispered confirmation.

"Sammy, stay back," Dean said firmly. "I know what I'm doing." He turned back to Cas, who was still trying to convince him to step down. "I promised you I'd keep you safe, didn't I?" he said, grinning. "If I can't do that, I'll at least die with you."

"But the world needs you, Dean," Cas whispered. "Sam needs you."

"And I need you," Dean replied. "I've always needed you." He turned to Sam, smiling sadly. "Sam, if this works but we don't survive, save the world for us, won't you? And look after my baby."

"Please, Dean, don't," Cas said, one more time.

"Together," Dean said, hugging Cas close. "Or not at all."

And then they jumped.

Sam, the Doctor and Clara ran to the ledge, and watched as they fell, arms wrapped around each other, and although only the Doctor and Cas could see it, two inky black wings were wrapped tightly around them both, feathers brushing Dean's cheeks. They looked up, to see the darkening skyline fade, and the world went white.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

The world came back into focus, and they found themselves on the street where it had all begun. The Doctor hugged Clara tight, happy she was safe. They pulled away when they heard Sam's voice.

"Where's Dean?" Sam spun around, searching for his brother and his Angel. "Doctor, where is he?"

The Doctor looked away.

"Tell me!" Sam cried. "Where are they?"

"They got swallowed by the paradox," the Doctor said hoarsely. "They're- they're dead."

"And did you know this would happen?"

The Doctor swallowed. "It was a possibility."

"You knew there was a possibility that they wouldn't survive, and you let them do it anyway?" Sam yelled, shaking with anger and sorrow. "Not only that, you practically encouraged them!" He blinked tears out of his eyes. "You're a Time Lord, just- go back in time and save them! Save Dean!"

"It doesn't work that-"

"Who cares?" He was screaming now. People were staring, but he didn't care. "Save them! Please."

"You can't go back on your own timeline. I'm- I'm so sorry, Sam. I can't save them."

Sam just broke. He felt tears streaming down his cheeks, and he could feel more forming. "If you don't save them, then I'll kill you. I swear to god, I'll kill you. You aren't even human, so I have an excuse!"

Clara just walked up to Sam and hugged him. He slumped, sobbing, into the shorter woman's embrace, all energy leaving his body. They just stayed like that for a while, hugging on a desolate road in a town in the middle of nowhere.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

When he'd cried himself dry, they walked to the TARDIS. Sam didn't even comment on the Bigger-on-the-inside-ness, instead just collapsing on the jump seat. The Doctor piloted it back to the hotel, and Sam ignored everything anyone said to him, and just stared blankly at the TARDIS' floor.

When they arrived at the hotel, he just walked slowly out, before sitting on the bed.

"Will you be okay?" Clara asked, placing a hand on his knee. He smiled sadly, and shook his head in negative.

"You could come with us," the Doctor said nonchalantly, leaning against the TARDIS door frame.

Sam smiled again, before once again shaking his head. "If it were any other time, I would have said yes. Just… I need time, and I can't-" he buried his head in his hands. "I just can't, not yet. Maybe in a couple of days, but not now."

Clara nodded. "That's okay."

The Doctor came and sat beside Sam on the bed. "You know, I lost two friends almost the exact same way, and I didn't recover for a thousand years. And losing someone… you never get over it, no matter what people say. Time does not make you forget someone, or make them less important. The person you lose is always on your mind, and sometimes it hurts so much, and you just can't breathe, you can't move."

"And over the thousand years I mourned, and I have lived a long time and mourned more people than most people will ever meet, I've learnt that you don't always move on, you don't always become better with time."

"But people, brilliant, ordinary people, make your life worth living. People who are worth saving, so don't you give up now, Sam Winchester. Don't you dare stop, because the universe isn't done with you yet, and the world is not ready to say goodbye to you already. People need you, people need me, and so no matter how bad it hurts, no matter how hard the pain is, no matter who we lose, we keep fighting. Because we have to."

"But that doesn't mean we have to do it alone. Find someone, a partner, a friend, a hunting pal, anyone. Don't be alone. No-one should be alone." He hugged him, let him rest his head on his shoulder. "If you want, I could send my friend Jack over. I think he'd make a great hunter."

Sam smiled softly. "No, I'll find someone."

"Y'know," the Doctor said, pulling away. "You're pretty famous in the 51st century. Perhaps I should send Jack over just so he fangirls." Sam snorted.

"Will you need a ride?" Clara asked. "I'm sure we can get you where you want to go if you need."

Sam shook his head. "I've got to take Dean- uh, I've got to take the car back. Thanks though."

The Doctor pulled a bit of paper and a pen out of his pocket and scribbled down something. "My number," he said, handing the paper over. "If you ever need me."

"Thanks," said Sam.

"We should be going," said the Doctor. "Places to see, people to save… See you round, Sam Winchester. And find someone!" Him and Clara turned and ran into the police box. "You know, there's a planet in the Scorpio system that is made of candy floss? Actual candy floss?" their chatter faded, and a wheezing whorp whorp sound filled the room. Sam watched as the blue police box faded into nonexistence.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Miles away, in a forest in Texas, two previously dead men sat up.

"We were dead," Dean Winchester whispered to the Angel sitting next to him

"I know," Castiel said, surprised.

"I thought we were going to stay dead, that time."

Cas smiled, ruffling his wings slightly.

"I believe the universe isn't quite done with us yet," He said, pushing himself up.

Dean smirked. "Let's go save the world."

Whoo, I finished!

This will be a one-shot, no sequel.

Please review!