Fic: More Things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio
Essentially, I decided to write this because I think Dean and the Ninth Doctor would work really well together, but all the SPN/DW fics I can find contain the Tenth Doctor. Seriously, the TARDIS is a time machine---any Doctor can meet the Winchesters, not just the one whose run SPN coincides with.
Title: More Things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio
Rating: PG
Fandoms: Supernatural/Doctor Who
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, the Ninth Doctor
Summary: The Winchesters and Castiel find a big blue box sitting on top of the Impala. Dean is not amused.
Spoilers: Generally for Supernatural Season 5.
A/N: This takes place after "Abandon All Hope" for Supernatural and pre-"Rose" for Doctor Who.
As the Winchesters and Castiel made their way back to the Impala, they noticed something wrong.
"There's a box on top of my car!" Dean Winchester shouted. "How the hell did a blue wooden box get on top of my car?!"
The Impala's roof creaked as it began to give underneath the box's weight.
"Ummm...I'm drawing a blank," Sam Winchester said as he and Castiel stared up at the box. "It looks like an old-fashioned phone booth."
"No shit, genius! Do you think it's another Horseman?" Dean asked, looking panicked.
"Whatever it may be, it is very old," Castiel stated flatly. He added more softly, almost to himself, "It seems familiar..."
"A Horseman? Seriously?" Sam raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah, I mean, War drove a Mustang, so there's no accounting for taste." Dean suddenly smiled slyly at Sam and Castiel. "I got an idea." He pulled out his gun and began shooting at the box.
"Dean, this is not wise!" Castiel called to him. Dean didn't care.
"OKAY, YOU SLIMY BASTARD!!! GET THE HELL OFF MY CAR OR I SWEAR TO GOD THERE WILL BE MORE WHERE THIS CAME FROM!!! AND YOU CAN TELL YOUR BUDDY LUCIFER THAT---"
A strange wheezing noise emanated from the box. Then it rapidly started fading in and out of existence until it fully disappeared.
"Okay, then," Sam remarked, scratching his head.
And then the box faded back in next to the Impala, wheezing all the while.
"Dude, why does the box sound like it has asthma?" Sam and Castiel exchanged glances.
"I don't care how sick it is---I'm gonna give that son of bitch a piece of my mind." Dean glared at the box and took a step forward.
Sam clapped his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Dean, no."
Dean looked back, exasperated. "Sam, yes."
Then Dean stormed towards the blue box, and opened and slammed the door angrily.
Sam and Castiel hurried after Dean. When they got inside, Dean was pointing a gun at a tall, middle-aged man in a leather jacket (presumably the pilot). They couldn't tell if the man looked more confused or annoyed, but he didn't seem afraid.
"You know what, bitch?" Dean began as he got ready to fire. "You and your 'superiors' can intimidate us all you want---you can wreck Sam's legs, kill Cas, and give me stomach cancer, and we'll never back down. But when you touch my car---"
The man just rolled his eyes. "Alright, hero, I get it---I'm sorry about your car. I think the TARDIS here fancies your vehicle just a bit." He gently stroked the teal-ish pole in the middle of control room.
"What the hell's a TARDIS?" Dean paused to look around.
Dean blinked.
He ran back out.
He ran back in.
He blinked again. Sam and Castiel noticed what he was looking at.
Dean raised his eyebrows. "Dude, you broke the laws of physics. Is that Hell's game now? Or Heaven's, maybe?"
"Good Lord, are human religious cults recruiting underwear models now? Underwear models who want to be James Dean?" The man began laughing hard---a loud, resounding, infectious laugh. Sam and Dean found that they were, too, though somewhat nervously. Castiel just stared at the stranger, as though he was trying to figure out a jigsaw puzzle.
"Lord President, what is so funny?" Castiel asked, completely deadpan.
The man looked at Castiel for a moment, then only laughed harder. "You'd give Bud Abbott a run for his money, you know that?"
"Lord President, I don't understand. Why are you here?" Castiel walked over to him and put his hands firmly on the man's shoulders.
The stranger stopped laughing immediately. HIs sharp blue eyes grew wide. "Wait, you're not a human. You're a...Why didn't I see it before?" Then he looked dismayed. "Oh, fantastic."
Dean raised his eyebrows and looked from the man to Castiel and back again. "Are we interrupting some kind of reunion?"
"Not quite," Castiel said deliberately, still examining this "Lord President."
"You're borrowing a body. How many races are living like this because of..." The man turned away from Dean, Castiel, and Sam and rubbed his temples.
"No, really, if my brother and I don't get some answers soon, I will start shooting this thing." Dean cocked his gun quickly.
"Look, boy, I'm sorry about your car, I really am, but the universe is a bit more important than that!" The "Lord President" gripped Dean by the shoulders and shook him just a bit---Dean lowered his gun, still looking angry. Then the man fell back, looking shocked. "I'm sorry."
"So, 'Lord President' or whoever the hell you are, don't you know the world's ending?"
"Really, again?" He paused. "What year is it?"
"Early 2010. What, don't they have years...wherever your from?"
The man started hopping around, pushing buttons and pulling levers. "I've got to get out of here. I shouldn't be here---I can't interfere with this one. You need to leave...God, I hope though Winchester boys work something out..."
"Hold it, how do you know about us?" Dean raised his gun again.
"Yeah, which side are you on?" Sam raised his gun this time, too.
"Wait, you mean you're the Winchesters...why didn't I...Oh, of course, it's been over twenty-six years! And you've survived this far! There's still a chance! FANTASTIC!!!" The man hugged Dean, who pushed him away.
"Twenty-six years, that means---" Dean began.
"The year I was born. The year mom died," Sam said sullenly.
"I saw you that night. Your father refused any help I had to offer---he thought I was just a nutter."
"Huh, I wonder why..." Dean quipped.
"Was that before your planet fell?" Castiel asked suddenly.
The man hung his head. "Technically, yes."
"I was there, Lord President. I saw you before that as well---you wore a sweater with question marks all over it." Everyone just stared at Castiel for a few moments.
"Oh, that phase," the man muttered.
"So, Cas, you're sayin' this guy's an alien." Dean raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, Dean. He is the Lord President of Gallifrey, a Time Lord and a great man," Castiel told him succinctly.
"Cas, everybody knows aliens aren't real, just like Bigfoot." Dean glanced Castiel and rolled his eyes.
"Then how d'you explain your friend here?" The "alien" asked, nodding toward the angel.
"He's an angel---technically, a fallen one, but still an angel."
"He's an alien, Dean, one of who knows how many species that lost corporeal form during the Last Great Time War."
"The what?"
"It was a..." The man turned away. "Never mind. The 'angel' underlings are told they are angels, and like good little soldiers, they believe everything they're told. Isn't that right?" He glanced briefly, but meaningfully, at Castiel.
"Then how do you explain demons?" Dean asked, sounding annoyed.
"Same thing, but different. Still alien."
"Then why the hell are they taking down our planet?"
The alien, Lord President, or whoever he was turned back to Dean. "Well, some species see your planet as a nice little battleground, like Shiloh or Gettysburg. No offense."
Castiel spoke up again. "Dean, I have just thought of something."
"Yeah, what?" Dean looked hopeful.
"This man may be your answer to stopping the Apocalypse." He turned to the alien man. "Lord President, I saw you do great, even terrible things. Please intercede on our behalf."
The man walked over to Castiel and clapped him on the shoulder. "What was your name again?"
"Castiel, Lord President." Castiel seemed to stand up straighter.
"First thing, Castiel: stop callin' me 'Lord President.' I'm the Doctor---I haven't been President Elect of Gallifrey for ages. There's nothing left to be President Elect of, anyway." He cast his blue eyes downward.
"Yes, I am truly sorry, Lor---Doctor."
"So you don't even have a planet, no home?" Dean interjected.
"Nope. You and Sammy should know somethin' about that."
"It's Sam." Sam glared at the Doctor.
"Whatever you say, Sammy. Anyway, I can't intercede in this one, boys."
"Why not?" All three asked.
"Some battles are too big for me to end. I know my strength now. A Time Lord could be a god, but that would be monstrous. I can't alter this---I could change history too much. I like this race too much to ruin its future." As he spoke, the Doctor looked each of them in the eye, one by one.
"If you don't help, you could help ruin its future," Dean snapped angrily.
"No. This is your fight. I'm sick of fighting. I've seen too much, done too much. But you three---it's all in your hands. You'll make the right decision."
Everyone was quiet for a moment.
Dean spoke first. "I am sick and tired of all these bullshit answers! I want a solution, not a goddamn puzzle! I'm not Indiana fuckin' Jones here!"
"Dean, I think he's right," Sam said.
"No, he's just a coward."
The Doctor stared solemnly at him. "Maybe that's true. Maybe being a coward is just knowing when to run."
"Perhaps we should leave," Castiel suggested nervously.
"Yeah, that might be a good idea," Sam agreed. They walked towards the door, but Dean stayed put.
"Well, it was nice to meet you, boys. It's not everyday the TARDIS gets a visit from male underwear models." The Doctor waved at them as they exited. "You know, Dean, standin' here and lookin' angry won't save the world."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Dean turned walk walked towards the door.
"Oh, and Dean?"
Dean looked back, right at those sharp blue eyes. "Yeah?"
"You're a much better man than your father ever was."
Dean exited the TARDIS and slammed the door behind him.