Fic: Spn/DrWho/TW crossover - Enter the Doctor - (4/?)
Title: Enter the Doctor - Part 4
Author: ravengrimm
Pairing/Characters: Dean/Castiel, Ten, Sam, Capt Jack
Genre: Crossover - Supernatural/Doctor Who/Torchwood, Pre-slash and minor angst
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3304
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Spn - S4, DrWho - up to 4.16, TW - CoE
Summary: The Doctor knows something weird is going on, and Dean and Castiel get some time alone to chat.
Notes: This takes place between S4 and S5 - Supernatural, before 'The End of Time' - Doctor Who, and at the end of 'Children of Earth' - Torchwood. Starts in the Doctor's PoV then switches back to Dean's.
Previous Chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Sam and Jack are hunched over the computer together; Sam listening avidly as Jack explains what the rift is and how it refuels the TARDIS, not that he entirely understands it himself, but Sam looks fascinated nonetheless.
Dean is still outside and the Doctor can just make out the sleeve of Castiel’s coat through the doorway. Can see just how closely they’re standing together, almost intimately. It makes the Doctor smile.
The Doctor didn’t miss when Castiel wrapped an arm around Dean when the TARDIS dematerialised unexpectedly, catching him before he could fall. He has also noticed the way Dean gives Jack the evil-eye every time he looks at Castiel with that 51st century gleam in his eyes. That makes the Doctor smirk more then anything; Jack’s got some real competition if he wants to pursue Castiel.
It surprised the Doctor a little when Castiel disappeared just after Dean had gone outside. He’s sure the faint rustle he heard must have been the beat of the angel’s wings. Luckily Jack hadn’t notice so the Doctor didn’t need to explain that little feat to him, which is good seeing how Castiel had seemed reluctant to bring it up in front of him.
The Doctor suspects the reason behind Castiel’s silence is the same reason the Doctor finds Jack so…wrong, and why the TARDIS had gone to the end of time to try and throw him off. Jack should be dead but he isn’t. Every time he’s killed he comes back shortly after, stuck in some kind of loop where his death can never play through fully. But he had died properly once, the first time, and that has to count for something, has to mean something.
Does Heaven know? Is Jack supposed to be there? Because for all his flirting, and the things he has to do to save the world, Jack is still a good guy, underneath it all. And if there is a Heaven and Hell, then Jack would deserve the former. He proved that the day he gave his life trying to save planet Earth from the Daleks on Satellite 5, the very day he failed to die.
For all the people he’s managed to save, Jack deserves to live, but the Doctor can’t shift the weird feeling he gets from being around him. Jack’s an anomaly, and the Doctor just knows he’d take that as a compliment.
Jack and Sam are swapping stories now, Jack telling him about the Trine-e and Zu-Zana bots on Satelite 5 that had tried to give him a makeover he’d never forget, and Sam seems stuck between laughing and cringing. There’s definitely a cringe when he mentions the Anne Droid though.
Sam counters by telling him about a giant stuffed bear he and Dean encountered a while back and Jack, not wanting to be out done, tells him about the Sex Gas that the Doctor really doesn’t need to hear or think about.
He tries to block out Jack’s descriptive explanation by focusing on sorting the TARDIS out, and his thoughts float to Castiel and more pointedly, the fact that he’s an angel. The Doctor hasn’t quite gotten over that fact. For all his years and travelling through time and space, and seeing the things that he has, the Doctor hadn’t really given much thought to whether angels and Heaven could possibly exist. But then he’s constantly discovering new beings and new worlds, so this really shouldn’t be as surprising as it is.
Castiel is something truly new for the Doctor, and he feels a little in awe of the shorter, quite man, with those imposing wings that he can almost see if he looks in just the right way. It actually excites the Doctor to think about Castiel and angels, and he realises he’s leaning, craning to see him through the doorway. The Doctor leans back slowly and notices Jack is giving him a funny look, an eyebrow cocked.
The Doctor ignores him and really focuses on working this time. He flicks a switch in front of him and the screen blinks to life. He stares at the readings and sighs; Dean won’t me happy. The Doctor can tell Dean is having a hard time coming to grips with finding out that there’s much more to the universe than he thought. And being stuck in another country with an alien and a spaceship isn’t going to make things any easier for him. The TARDIS isn’t being very helpful at all today.
The Doctor glares at the monitor in front of him and by extension, the TARDIS, as he pokes the gauge on the screen, willing it to rise a fraction.
No fuel when he got to America - somewhere he really hadn’t been aiming for - then magically enough to get him exactly where he’d wanted to be in the first place, but only once Dean, Sam and Castiel were inside, now none again. The Doctor knows something’s going on; he just needs to figure out what that is. He flicks the switch again, and the screen blinks off.
He pockets his glasses, and grabbing his coat from where he’d slung it earlier, he steps out into the snow.
Dean and Castiel are still stood close together, there bodies touching at the bicep. Castiel’s head is turned down, but his eyes are on Dean’s face, the look he’s giving him is both warm and sad at the same time. The Doctor can’t begin to fathom what they might have been talking about.
Dean looks as though he’s been silent for a while, but he also seems more at ease than the Doctor has seen him since they met, which strangely feels like days ago even though it’s only been hours.
The Doctor feels as though he’s intruding on some private moment between them, they seem too distracted by each other to even notice the Doctor is there, so he nudges the TARDIS’s door and it bangs back against the side as he walks over to them. Dean looks up, but Castiel’s doesn’t, his eyes stay focused on Dean, and the Doctor can imagine the angel might spend hours just watching Dean with that same look in his eyes.
“Well I’ve checked and double checked, but the TARDIS has absolutely no power left,” the Doctor admits, smiling thinly. “She exerted all her reserves getting us here, so I’m afraid it’ll be a few days before I can take you back,” he says and waits for some kind of explosion or mental break, but Dean just sighs.
“Guess we’re staying then,” he says, surprising the Doctor, and Castiel bows his head, his eyes at last leaving Dean’s face, and with something like regret marring his features.
“Glad to hear it,” Jack cheers, clasping his hands onto the Doctor’s shoulders from behind and interrupting any attempt he might have had to find out why Castiel looks as trouble as he does. “So, who wants a tour of the new Torchwood facility?” he asks cheerily.
“What’s Torchwood?” Sam asks, leaning in the TARDIS’s doorway, his arms folded across his chest.
“Alien hunters,” the Doctor says, giving Jack a disapproving look.
“We’re not like that any more, we don’t shoot first and ask questions later. And the refurbishment has been made to my exact specification,” Jack says rather boastfully.
“And how’s that?” the Doctor asks sceptically. “You’ve been gone for more than half a year, Jack.”
Jack shrugs. “I left a note.”
The Doctor shakes his head. That’s so typically Jack, always got some kind of plan or scheme up his sleeve.
“So you… uh… look for aliens, and give the bad ones a telling off then?” Dean asks looking shiftily between Jack and the Doctor.
“They lock the bad ones up,” the Doctor says, crossing his arms.
“We try to send them home,” Jack adds quickly looking at the Doctor before turning to Dean to continue. “You see the rift has this habit of spitting out aliens and alien tech, good and bad, mostly bad. That’s why we built the complex here, to keep the rift in check.”
Dean looks around and cocks an eyebrow at the Roald Dahl Plass building. “That’s your base?” he asks dubiously.
Jack chuckles. “No we’re underneith. It’s not fully operational yet, but it’s nearly there.”
“So is it like some kind of government organisation then?” Sam asks.
“No, not quite, we’re… beyond the the government,” Jack explains vaguley.
“So the police have to answer to you?” Dean asks, a slight smirk in his lips.
“Not exactly, but if a case looks alien then we take over.”
Dean nods. “That’s awesome,” he says and Sam laughs.
“So, tour then?” Jack asks again and the Doctor declines. No matter what Jack says, the Doctor doesn’t believe Torchwoods actions can always be justified. What Jack did, what he thought he had to do to stop the 456… The Doctor wouldn’t have done that, couldn’t have, but what else could Jack have done? Now Jack has to live with that, has to live with it because he can’t die.
No it’ll be a long time before the Doctor is satified that Torchwood is on the same side as him.
“Well I’d like to see,” Sam says. “Dean, you coming?”
“Nah, you go, I wanna have a chat with Cas.”
“Guess it’s just you and me then,” Jack smiles, wraping an arm around Sam’s shoulders
“Play nice Jack,” the Doctor warns and Jack winks.
“I always do.”
When Sam and Jack are out of earshot Dean turns to the Doctor asking, “You don’t like Jack’s line of work?” And it’s more of an assumption than a question.
The Doctor shrugs, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Torchwood was established in 1879 by Queen Victoria, and I guess I was partly to blame. She uh… named me an Enemy of the crown in the Torchwood Foundation Charter, which basically means, if they find me, they lock me up. They’ve spent a lot of time trying to do just that.”
Dean nods. “I can see why you might not like them then,” he says, giving the Doctor a sympathetic look. “Why did she do it, why did the Queen of England want you caught?”
“Well, basically she found out about aliens and decided she needed to defend England from them. And apparently I fall into that category,” the Doctor sighs.
“So how come Jack works for them then? If you and Torchwood aren’t on friendly terms.”
“Jack says Torchwood three is different from the rest. The main branch in London was closed down so maybe he’s right. And I suppose Jack doesn’t exactly hunt me down, though he is always trying to find me.”
“Guess it just depends on you’re definition of hunting,” Dean laughs.
The Doctor laughs too, watching Jack walk toward the invisible lift, Sam clasped to his side, and admires the goofy grin on Jack’s face. “Yeah, I guess it does,” the Doctor says, as a smile creeps into his lips.
“I’ve been meaning to ask. What is up with your ship looking like that, it doesn’t look very aerodynamic,” Dean says, his head to one side as he looks the TARDIS up and down.
“It’s a cloaking device called a chameleon circuit. It’s meant to disguise the TARDIS wherever it lands, but the circuit got stuck like this,” the Doctor explains.
“But don’t people notice it?”
“Not really, humans seem to be quite good at ignoring it, it’s only the people who know what they’re looking for that can usually find it,” the Doctor says, taking his hands out of his pockets.
“Like Jack?”
“Yeah, like Jack.”
“And that’s another thing. Why didn’t he seem to know what you looked like?” Dean asks, frowning.
“I guess when he saw you, he thought I might have regenerated.”
Dean cocks an eyebrow at that.
“You see, I don’t exactly die. If I’m fatally wounded, I regenerate, basically turning into a new person, new face, new teeth. Jack’s seen two regenerations, so it wouldn’t be a surprise to him. And now I guess I should open up the engines or the TARDIS won’t be able to start soaking up the radiation,” he says and wanders inside to do just that, leaving Dean to repeat the word radiation with a nervous edge to his voice.
*
“You’re cold,” Castiel informs Dean, waking him from a daze about radiation and new faces.
Dean looks at him and shrugs. “It’s snowing, Cas. What do you expect?”
Castiel slips out of his coat and before Dean can protest, he hangs it over Dean’s shoulders. “Uh… Cas?” Dean says, biting his lip and feeling really awkward, and not sure what he’s supposed to do when another man gives him his coat to keep warm.
Without the trench coat on Castiel looks more human somehow, but the expression on his face is so completely Castiel, that there isn’t a trace of Jimmy in those eyes and in that faint smile and… Dean’s staring…
He looks away, because Castiel is staring right back at him, that long intense stare that makes Dean’s stomach lodge in his throat, and his palms sweat.
“Uh, aren’t you cold?” he asks, trying to clear his mind and get Castiel to take his coat back at the same time.
“I don’t feel the cold, Dean.”
“Then how’s about that poor vessel of yours. Doesn’t he?”
“No,” Castiel says bluntly and instantly Dean is out of argument and still thinking about that look and those lips…
“Right,” Dean says, swallowing dryly and hunching his shoulders, not that there’s anyone around to see him looking like a girl wrapped in her boyfriends coat, but still...
They’re silent a moment, Dean trying to ignore the warm feeling pooling in his chest because he knows it isn’t because of the coat, not directly any way.
“You wanted to talk to me about something,” Castiel says.
“Oh, yeah,” Dean remembers, glad to have something different to think about, well slightly different. “I was just wondering… Why are you still here? I mean, you’ve never stayed this long before,” he asks, and Castiel meets his gaze, a determined look in his eyes that makes Dean’s heart thud a little harder in his chest as he says, “I’m here because you are, and I’m staying because you have to.”
He pauses and the look dissolves into what could be a mixture of confusion and worry. “I- uh… Something’s not right, Dean. Something here. Something dangerous.” He trails off, and lowers his eyes before saying, “And I… I want to make sure you’re safe…”
Dean doesn’t know how to react to that, and he’s sure his heart had stopped beating entirely for a least a few seconds. He doesn’t get a chance to respond though, as Sam and Jack return, Sam carrying what Dean assumes must be a small souvenir.
Sam gives Dean a funny look when he notices Dean is wrapped in Castiel’s trench, and Dean can see his lips twitching, fighting to hold back a smirk.
Dean thinks fast. He cocks an eyebrow at Sam and glances pointedly at Jack and then at Jack’s hand resting on his brother’s shoulder and then back at Sam again as he says, “You two have fun down there?”
The smile instantly drops from Sam’s lips and he stays quiet, allowing Dean the pleasure of a win.
He grins.
“So who wants pizza? I know a great place just around the corner,” Jack says.
“I’m starving,” Dean moans, grateful for the change in topic so that he doesn’t have to think about the way Castiel’s confession is making him feel. “Know anywhere that makes a good pie?” he asks.
“Steak pie?” Jack asks.
“Fruit.”
“No, sorry.”
“The TARDIS might make something that tastes fruit pie-ish,” the Doctor offers from the doorway, a thumb pointing inside.
Dean looks at him sceptically, “Ish?” he asks, his mind conjuring up all kinds of nasty reasons why it might be described as ‘ish’.
“As nice as TARDIS food tastes, Doctor, it doesn’t quite look all that… food-like. So I’ll stick with the pizza,” Jack says.
“Uh… me too,” Dean adds, not really trusting this misbehaving, time travelling box to make him dinner just yet.
“So who’s got money then?” Jack asks.
“Sorry, American only,” Dean says.
Sam shrugs. “Same here.”
“I have no money,” Castiel admits, surprising Dean by saying anything at all, and Jack looks at the Doctor who fishes around in his pockets.
He produces a button, enough lint to fill a small pillow, three screws (And Dean doesn’t want to think about where he might have taken them from), a jelly baby and a number of nameless odds and ends. He digs in an inside pocket and comes up with a red wire, one intact potato chip, a business card for ‘Henry’s motor repairs’, and three coins that look distinctly foreign.
“There is more, but they feel too big to be money,” he says holding out his hands for Jack to inspect the contents. “A Da’garan crown and two half pennies?” Jack says, shaking his head. “Not much use here.”
He cocks an eyebrow, picking up the business card. “Who's’ Henry, and why would you need motor repairs?” he asks
The Doctor shrugs. “You never know. I did have a scooter for a while.”
“But you can fix just about anything,” Jack points out and the Doctor just shrugs again.
“I collect things.”
“That’s for sure. Even companions,” Jack says taking the jelly baby.
“Ew dude, gross,” Dean remarks. “You don’t know how long that thing’s been in there?”
The Doctor looks thoughtful. “About four or five regenerations,” he says and Jack pauses mid chew. He sticks his tongue out and lets the sweet slide off his tongue as the Doctor bites his lip to hold back a smirk Dean’s sure he’s dieing to let out.
“I guess I’m paying then,” Jack mumbles as he wipes his tongue with the sleeve of his shirt.
“Mm,” the Doctor agrees, tight lipped and nodding.
Jack gives the Doctor a dirty look before grabbing his coat from inside the TARDIS and jogging off to where Dean assumes the shops must be.
“Can we go inside? It’s freezing out here,” Sam asks, rubbing his arms and shivering for effect and Dean actually feels a little smug, all wrapped up in two coats like he is.
Sam shivers for real when they get inside, and quickly closes the door asking, “Do you have a couch anywhere?”
“Um, I think there’s a sitting room around here somewhere,” the Doctor says, thoughtfully.
“You’re kidding? You’ve got a whole sitting room in this thing?” Dean asks dubiously, looking around and completely failing to find one. He hands Castiel his trench coat back, the warmth of the TARDIS being a little overbearing with two coats on.
“There are lots of other rooms,” the Doctor says, pressing buttons on the computer. “Through there,” he adds, pointing at a door that Dean hadn’t noticed until now.
“How many rooms?” Sam asks walking over to it.
“I can’t remember, quite a few I think. Bedrooms, bathrooms, the engine room, med bay, the cloisters, the swimming pool…”
Dean gawps, mouthing 'Swimming pool?' at Sam and they trade questioning looks.
“All that is behind this door?” Sam asks, his hand not quite touching the handle.
“Yep. I could add more if I wanted to, or take some away,” the Doctor says and Dean laughs. He’s completely given up being surprised by anything the Doctor says.
The universe is crazy, aliens come and go as they please and the TARDIS can have as many rooms as the Doctor wants, Dean’s just going to deal with it. He laughs a little louder as he says, “So where’s my room then?”
Part 5
Author: ravengrimm
Pairing/Characters: Dean/Castiel, Ten, Sam, Capt Jack
Genre: Crossover - Supernatural/Doctor Who/Torchwood, Pre-slash and minor angst
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3304
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Spn - S4, DrWho - up to 4.16, TW - CoE
Summary: The Doctor knows something weird is going on, and Dean and Castiel get some time alone to chat.
Notes: This takes place between S4 and S5 - Supernatural, before 'The End of Time' - Doctor Who, and at the end of 'Children of Earth' - Torchwood. Starts in the Doctor's PoV then switches back to Dean's.
Previous Chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Sam and Jack are hunched over the computer together; Sam listening avidly as Jack explains what the rift is and how it refuels the TARDIS, not that he entirely understands it himself, but Sam looks fascinated nonetheless.
Dean is still outside and the Doctor can just make out the sleeve of Castiel’s coat through the doorway. Can see just how closely they’re standing together, almost intimately. It makes the Doctor smile.
The Doctor didn’t miss when Castiel wrapped an arm around Dean when the TARDIS dematerialised unexpectedly, catching him before he could fall. He has also noticed the way Dean gives Jack the evil-eye every time he looks at Castiel with that 51st century gleam in his eyes. That makes the Doctor smirk more then anything; Jack’s got some real competition if he wants to pursue Castiel.
It surprised the Doctor a little when Castiel disappeared just after Dean had gone outside. He’s sure the faint rustle he heard must have been the beat of the angel’s wings. Luckily Jack hadn’t notice so the Doctor didn’t need to explain that little feat to him, which is good seeing how Castiel had seemed reluctant to bring it up in front of him.
The Doctor suspects the reason behind Castiel’s silence is the same reason the Doctor finds Jack so…wrong, and why the TARDIS had gone to the end of time to try and throw him off. Jack should be dead but he isn’t. Every time he’s killed he comes back shortly after, stuck in some kind of loop where his death can never play through fully. But he had died properly once, the first time, and that has to count for something, has to mean something.
Does Heaven know? Is Jack supposed to be there? Because for all his flirting, and the things he has to do to save the world, Jack is still a good guy, underneath it all. And if there is a Heaven and Hell, then Jack would deserve the former. He proved that the day he gave his life trying to save planet Earth from the Daleks on Satellite 5, the very day he failed to die.
For all the people he’s managed to save, Jack deserves to live, but the Doctor can’t shift the weird feeling he gets from being around him. Jack’s an anomaly, and the Doctor just knows he’d take that as a compliment.
Jack and Sam are swapping stories now, Jack telling him about the Trine-e and Zu-Zana bots on Satelite 5 that had tried to give him a makeover he’d never forget, and Sam seems stuck between laughing and cringing. There’s definitely a cringe when he mentions the Anne Droid though.
Sam counters by telling him about a giant stuffed bear he and Dean encountered a while back and Jack, not wanting to be out done, tells him about the Sex Gas that the Doctor really doesn’t need to hear or think about.
He tries to block out Jack’s descriptive explanation by focusing on sorting the TARDIS out, and his thoughts float to Castiel and more pointedly, the fact that he’s an angel. The Doctor hasn’t quite gotten over that fact. For all his years and travelling through time and space, and seeing the things that he has, the Doctor hadn’t really given much thought to whether angels and Heaven could possibly exist. But then he’s constantly discovering new beings and new worlds, so this really shouldn’t be as surprising as it is.
Castiel is something truly new for the Doctor, and he feels a little in awe of the shorter, quite man, with those imposing wings that he can almost see if he looks in just the right way. It actually excites the Doctor to think about Castiel and angels, and he realises he’s leaning, craning to see him through the doorway. The Doctor leans back slowly and notices Jack is giving him a funny look, an eyebrow cocked.
The Doctor ignores him and really focuses on working this time. He flicks a switch in front of him and the screen blinks to life. He stares at the readings and sighs; Dean won’t me happy. The Doctor can tell Dean is having a hard time coming to grips with finding out that there’s much more to the universe than he thought. And being stuck in another country with an alien and a spaceship isn’t going to make things any easier for him. The TARDIS isn’t being very helpful at all today.
The Doctor glares at the monitor in front of him and by extension, the TARDIS, as he pokes the gauge on the screen, willing it to rise a fraction.
No fuel when he got to America - somewhere he really hadn’t been aiming for - then magically enough to get him exactly where he’d wanted to be in the first place, but only once Dean, Sam and Castiel were inside, now none again. The Doctor knows something’s going on; he just needs to figure out what that is. He flicks the switch again, and the screen blinks off.
He pockets his glasses, and grabbing his coat from where he’d slung it earlier, he steps out into the snow.
Dean and Castiel are still stood close together, there bodies touching at the bicep. Castiel’s head is turned down, but his eyes are on Dean’s face, the look he’s giving him is both warm and sad at the same time. The Doctor can’t begin to fathom what they might have been talking about.
Dean looks as though he’s been silent for a while, but he also seems more at ease than the Doctor has seen him since they met, which strangely feels like days ago even though it’s only been hours.
The Doctor feels as though he’s intruding on some private moment between them, they seem too distracted by each other to even notice the Doctor is there, so he nudges the TARDIS’s door and it bangs back against the side as he walks over to them. Dean looks up, but Castiel’s doesn’t, his eyes stay focused on Dean, and the Doctor can imagine the angel might spend hours just watching Dean with that same look in his eyes.
“Well I’ve checked and double checked, but the TARDIS has absolutely no power left,” the Doctor admits, smiling thinly. “She exerted all her reserves getting us here, so I’m afraid it’ll be a few days before I can take you back,” he says and waits for some kind of explosion or mental break, but Dean just sighs.
“Guess we’re staying then,” he says, surprising the Doctor, and Castiel bows his head, his eyes at last leaving Dean’s face, and with something like regret marring his features.
“Glad to hear it,” Jack cheers, clasping his hands onto the Doctor’s shoulders from behind and interrupting any attempt he might have had to find out why Castiel looks as trouble as he does. “So, who wants a tour of the new Torchwood facility?” he asks cheerily.
“What’s Torchwood?” Sam asks, leaning in the TARDIS’s doorway, his arms folded across his chest.
“Alien hunters,” the Doctor says, giving Jack a disapproving look.
“We’re not like that any more, we don’t shoot first and ask questions later. And the refurbishment has been made to my exact specification,” Jack says rather boastfully.
“And how’s that?” the Doctor asks sceptically. “You’ve been gone for more than half a year, Jack.”
Jack shrugs. “I left a note.”
The Doctor shakes his head. That’s so typically Jack, always got some kind of plan or scheme up his sleeve.
“So you… uh… look for aliens, and give the bad ones a telling off then?” Dean asks looking shiftily between Jack and the Doctor.
“They lock the bad ones up,” the Doctor says, crossing his arms.
“We try to send them home,” Jack adds quickly looking at the Doctor before turning to Dean to continue. “You see the rift has this habit of spitting out aliens and alien tech, good and bad, mostly bad. That’s why we built the complex here, to keep the rift in check.”
Dean looks around and cocks an eyebrow at the Roald Dahl Plass building. “That’s your base?” he asks dubiously.
Jack chuckles. “No we’re underneith. It’s not fully operational yet, but it’s nearly there.”
“So is it like some kind of government organisation then?” Sam asks.
“No, not quite, we’re… beyond the the government,” Jack explains vaguley.
“So the police have to answer to you?” Dean asks, a slight smirk in his lips.
“Not exactly, but if a case looks alien then we take over.”
Dean nods. “That’s awesome,” he says and Sam laughs.
“So, tour then?” Jack asks again and the Doctor declines. No matter what Jack says, the Doctor doesn’t believe Torchwoods actions can always be justified. What Jack did, what he thought he had to do to stop the 456… The Doctor wouldn’t have done that, couldn’t have, but what else could Jack have done? Now Jack has to live with that, has to live with it because he can’t die.
No it’ll be a long time before the Doctor is satified that Torchwood is on the same side as him.
“Well I’d like to see,” Sam says. “Dean, you coming?”
“Nah, you go, I wanna have a chat with Cas.”
“Guess it’s just you and me then,” Jack smiles, wraping an arm around Sam’s shoulders
“Play nice Jack,” the Doctor warns and Jack winks.
“I always do.”
When Sam and Jack are out of earshot Dean turns to the Doctor asking, “You don’t like Jack’s line of work?” And it’s more of an assumption than a question.
The Doctor shrugs, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Torchwood was established in 1879 by Queen Victoria, and I guess I was partly to blame. She uh… named me an Enemy of the crown in the Torchwood Foundation Charter, which basically means, if they find me, they lock me up. They’ve spent a lot of time trying to do just that.”
Dean nods. “I can see why you might not like them then,” he says, giving the Doctor a sympathetic look. “Why did she do it, why did the Queen of England want you caught?”
“Well, basically she found out about aliens and decided she needed to defend England from them. And apparently I fall into that category,” the Doctor sighs.
“So how come Jack works for them then? If you and Torchwood aren’t on friendly terms.”
“Jack says Torchwood three is different from the rest. The main branch in London was closed down so maybe he’s right. And I suppose Jack doesn’t exactly hunt me down, though he is always trying to find me.”
“Guess it just depends on you’re definition of hunting,” Dean laughs.
The Doctor laughs too, watching Jack walk toward the invisible lift, Sam clasped to his side, and admires the goofy grin on Jack’s face. “Yeah, I guess it does,” the Doctor says, as a smile creeps into his lips.
“I’ve been meaning to ask. What is up with your ship looking like that, it doesn’t look very aerodynamic,” Dean says, his head to one side as he looks the TARDIS up and down.
“It’s a cloaking device called a chameleon circuit. It’s meant to disguise the TARDIS wherever it lands, but the circuit got stuck like this,” the Doctor explains.
“But don’t people notice it?”
“Not really, humans seem to be quite good at ignoring it, it’s only the people who know what they’re looking for that can usually find it,” the Doctor says, taking his hands out of his pockets.
“Like Jack?”
“Yeah, like Jack.”
“And that’s another thing. Why didn’t he seem to know what you looked like?” Dean asks, frowning.
“I guess when he saw you, he thought I might have regenerated.”
Dean cocks an eyebrow at that.
“You see, I don’t exactly die. If I’m fatally wounded, I regenerate, basically turning into a new person, new face, new teeth. Jack’s seen two regenerations, so it wouldn’t be a surprise to him. And now I guess I should open up the engines or the TARDIS won’t be able to start soaking up the radiation,” he says and wanders inside to do just that, leaving Dean to repeat the word radiation with a nervous edge to his voice.
*
“You’re cold,” Castiel informs Dean, waking him from a daze about radiation and new faces.
Dean looks at him and shrugs. “It’s snowing, Cas. What do you expect?”
Castiel slips out of his coat and before Dean can protest, he hangs it over Dean’s shoulders. “Uh… Cas?” Dean says, biting his lip and feeling really awkward, and not sure what he’s supposed to do when another man gives him his coat to keep warm.
Without the trench coat on Castiel looks more human somehow, but the expression on his face is so completely Castiel, that there isn’t a trace of Jimmy in those eyes and in that faint smile and… Dean’s staring…
He looks away, because Castiel is staring right back at him, that long intense stare that makes Dean’s stomach lodge in his throat, and his palms sweat.
“Uh, aren’t you cold?” he asks, trying to clear his mind and get Castiel to take his coat back at the same time.
“I don’t feel the cold, Dean.”
“Then how’s about that poor vessel of yours. Doesn’t he?”
“No,” Castiel says bluntly and instantly Dean is out of argument and still thinking about that look and those lips…
“Right,” Dean says, swallowing dryly and hunching his shoulders, not that there’s anyone around to see him looking like a girl wrapped in her boyfriends coat, but still...
They’re silent a moment, Dean trying to ignore the warm feeling pooling in his chest because he knows it isn’t because of the coat, not directly any way.
“You wanted to talk to me about something,” Castiel says.
“Oh, yeah,” Dean remembers, glad to have something different to think about, well slightly different. “I was just wondering… Why are you still here? I mean, you’ve never stayed this long before,” he asks, and Castiel meets his gaze, a determined look in his eyes that makes Dean’s heart thud a little harder in his chest as he says, “I’m here because you are, and I’m staying because you have to.”
He pauses and the look dissolves into what could be a mixture of confusion and worry. “I- uh… Something’s not right, Dean. Something here. Something dangerous.” He trails off, and lowers his eyes before saying, “And I… I want to make sure you’re safe…”
Dean doesn’t know how to react to that, and he’s sure his heart had stopped beating entirely for a least a few seconds. He doesn’t get a chance to respond though, as Sam and Jack return, Sam carrying what Dean assumes must be a small souvenir.
Sam gives Dean a funny look when he notices Dean is wrapped in Castiel’s trench, and Dean can see his lips twitching, fighting to hold back a smirk.
Dean thinks fast. He cocks an eyebrow at Sam and glances pointedly at Jack and then at Jack’s hand resting on his brother’s shoulder and then back at Sam again as he says, “You two have fun down there?”
The smile instantly drops from Sam’s lips and he stays quiet, allowing Dean the pleasure of a win.
He grins.
“So who wants pizza? I know a great place just around the corner,” Jack says.
“I’m starving,” Dean moans, grateful for the change in topic so that he doesn’t have to think about the way Castiel’s confession is making him feel. “Know anywhere that makes a good pie?” he asks.
“Steak pie?” Jack asks.
“Fruit.”
“No, sorry.”
“The TARDIS might make something that tastes fruit pie-ish,” the Doctor offers from the doorway, a thumb pointing inside.
Dean looks at him sceptically, “Ish?” he asks, his mind conjuring up all kinds of nasty reasons why it might be described as ‘ish’.
“As nice as TARDIS food tastes, Doctor, it doesn’t quite look all that… food-like. So I’ll stick with the pizza,” Jack says.
“Uh… me too,” Dean adds, not really trusting this misbehaving, time travelling box to make him dinner just yet.
“So who’s got money then?” Jack asks.
“Sorry, American only,” Dean says.
Sam shrugs. “Same here.”
“I have no money,” Castiel admits, surprising Dean by saying anything at all, and Jack looks at the Doctor who fishes around in his pockets.
He produces a button, enough lint to fill a small pillow, three screws (And Dean doesn’t want to think about where he might have taken them from), a jelly baby and a number of nameless odds and ends. He digs in an inside pocket and comes up with a red wire, one intact potato chip, a business card for ‘Henry’s motor repairs’, and three coins that look distinctly foreign.
“There is more, but they feel too big to be money,” he says holding out his hands for Jack to inspect the contents. “A Da’garan crown and two half pennies?” Jack says, shaking his head. “Not much use here.”
He cocks an eyebrow, picking up the business card. “Who's’ Henry, and why would you need motor repairs?” he asks
The Doctor shrugs. “You never know. I did have a scooter for a while.”
“But you can fix just about anything,” Jack points out and the Doctor just shrugs again.
“I collect things.”
“That’s for sure. Even companions,” Jack says taking the jelly baby.
“Ew dude, gross,” Dean remarks. “You don’t know how long that thing’s been in there?”
The Doctor looks thoughtful. “About four or five regenerations,” he says and Jack pauses mid chew. He sticks his tongue out and lets the sweet slide off his tongue as the Doctor bites his lip to hold back a smirk Dean’s sure he’s dieing to let out.
“I guess I’m paying then,” Jack mumbles as he wipes his tongue with the sleeve of his shirt.
“Mm,” the Doctor agrees, tight lipped and nodding.
Jack gives the Doctor a dirty look before grabbing his coat from inside the TARDIS and jogging off to where Dean assumes the shops must be.
“Can we go inside? It’s freezing out here,” Sam asks, rubbing his arms and shivering for effect and Dean actually feels a little smug, all wrapped up in two coats like he is.
Sam shivers for real when they get inside, and quickly closes the door asking, “Do you have a couch anywhere?”
“Um, I think there’s a sitting room around here somewhere,” the Doctor says, thoughtfully.
“You’re kidding? You’ve got a whole sitting room in this thing?” Dean asks dubiously, looking around and completely failing to find one. He hands Castiel his trench coat back, the warmth of the TARDIS being a little overbearing with two coats on.
“There are lots of other rooms,” the Doctor says, pressing buttons on the computer. “Through there,” he adds, pointing at a door that Dean hadn’t noticed until now.
“How many rooms?” Sam asks walking over to it.
“I can’t remember, quite a few I think. Bedrooms, bathrooms, the engine room, med bay, the cloisters, the swimming pool…”
Dean gawps, mouthing 'Swimming pool?' at Sam and they trade questioning looks.
“All that is behind this door?” Sam asks, his hand not quite touching the handle.
“Yep. I could add more if I wanted to, or take some away,” the Doctor says and Dean laughs. He’s completely given up being surprised by anything the Doctor says.
The universe is crazy, aliens come and go as they please and the TARDIS can have as many rooms as the Doctor wants, Dean’s just going to deal with it. He laughs a little louder as he says, “So where’s my room then?”
Part 5