[A:N] Yes, so this was rather sudden. But I decided to do a continuation of my previous SuperWhoLock story The Song of Time with a new twist. It's a WIP, for sure, so I'll have to see where I go with this. But I hope you all enjoy!

It was quiet. A bit quieter than the Doctor was used to.

At the moment he was orbiting the Earth, trying to decide what to do. The entirety of space and time was laid out before him, and yet suddenly he felt lonely. With a brief sigh he glanced down at the floor beneath his feet, staring at nothing in particular. He so badly wanted to visit his friends; Sherlock and John and the Winchester boys and in particular get another good look at that angel, Castiel. But how would they react, seeing him like this?

He'd been in his tenth regeneration last time he'd seen them. But now he was different. Different hair, different eyes, different teeth, different clothes, different TARDIS he even had a different sonic screwdriver. And the thought of them turning him away, of thinking he was lying about his identit it made him feel sick.

But it had been a year already. And he'd promised that he'd visit.

"Geronimo," he murmured softly as he punched in the correct coordinates and began maneuvering down to the planet below, hoping that the word would somehow give him strength for what he was about to do.

There was nothing the Doctor was more afraid of than losing his friends.

X X X

London, England

Some part of John always knew that the Doctor would come back always hoped he would, at the very least. Sherlock, however, had shrugged it off after weeks passed with still no sign of the Doctor, saying that he'd probably end up waiting twenty-seven years to return again, just like last time. But John knew better.

So when he and Sherlock returned to the flat after the conclusion of a particularly gruesome case to see a blue police box in their living room, he wasn't surprised at all.

Wel maybe just a little bit.

Sherlock stared, eyes wide as if he couldn't believe it. "He came back . . ."

Following Sherlock's example, John paused for a moment, admittedly a bit shocked. Of course he knew the Doctor would return eventually, but he never thought that he'd just park the TARDIS right in the middle of their bloody living room. Still, he got over the initial shock quicker than Sherlock did, a grin lighting up his face as the door on the front of the box opened.

But the man who stepped out was not the Doctor.

He was a bit taller than the Doctor, and his clothes were a bit weird too, what with the long green coat and odd boots he wore coupled with a bright red bow tie. That added to the dark hair he sported that was brushed over to one side, complimenting his large jaw, shapely cheek bones, and a mouth that had a strangely eccentric curve to it made him rather handsome. But that was not really what John should've been focusing on at the moment.

"Who are you?" Sherlock demanded, his eyes narrowed. "And where is the Doctor?"

The man shifted on his feet, obviously uncomfortable, and offered them a sheepish smile. "I am the Doctor."

A disbelieving silence stretched on for a few moments before John scoffed.

"You look nothing like the Doctor," he said.

The man flinched, looking strangely hurt. "I know. I should've explained that to you before, I suppose. But in my defense, I'm a bit rubbish at remembering things. So yeah, not my fault. But I promised I'd come back and I did, didn't I? Took me a year, but still I came back."

Sherlock stepped a bit closer to him. "How strange . . ." he murmured. "You look and sound nothing like the Doctor, and yet"

I know things only he would know?" The man finished. "Like I said, should've explained this before. See, Time Lords have this thing we do it's sort of a way to cheat death. We call it regeneration. Right before we die we change; our teeth, hair, personality, likes, dislikes, eyes, height, weight, all of it changes. Last time you saw me I was in my tenth regeneration tall, very skinny, wore long coats and pinstripe suits and converse all the time, loved to say allons-y a lot, yes?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Well, this is my eleventh regeneration." He said theatrically, taking a little bow as he did.

John and Sherlock stared at him a moment, neither sure what to say, until John sighed and shook his head. "Aliens," he muttered.

"Also, how could I have the TARDIS if I wasn't the Doctor?" He looked desperate.

"Alright, alright." Sherlock cut him off, "I he glanced at John, We believe you, Doctor."

Relief wiped the desperation from the Doctor's face, and his subsequent grin could've rivaled the sun. "Oh, good. I was beginning to get a bit worried there admittedly. See, I don't know what I would've done if you hadn' well, enough about that. It's great to see you all again! I've missed you so."

"Where have you been?" John wondered. "I mean, we said you could come and visit any time, didn't we?"

"Yes, wel ran into a bit of trouble."

"Ah," Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I'm assuming that's an understatement."

The Doctor just smiled.

"So, are you just here to visit, then?" John asked, motioning for him to take a seat.

"Ah, yes. I had a spot of free time. Also, I was wondering if perhaps we could visit the Winchester boys?"

"We haven't heard anything from them since you last left." Sherlock said. "There have been reports of strange happenings in America, though. We just haven't had time to look into it."

"It's been case after case for us recently." John added.

"I see." The Doctor frowned. "Well, shall we go check in on them, then?"

John blinked. "Right now?"

"Yes! Of course right now! What other time would you like to go? Five years from now?"

Sherlock smirked. "This regeneration seems to be a tad feistier than the last."

"Ah, yes, well . . ." The Doctor cleared his throat. "Are you two coming, or not?"

It wasn't really a hard decision.