sleeping in the dust.
we will not let time erase us
Supernatural/Doctor Who crossover. Dean Winchester, Amy Pond. Set after series five of DW and during season one of SPN.
He sees her the first time in a diner. She's staring rather obviously.
He thinks she's trying to catch his eye, but when he does, she turns her head away, curtains of red hair hiding her face. Sometimes he can hear her giggle a little, even from the other side of the diner. He wonders if she's playing a game with him. And what the hell, he has some time to kill.
She's pretending to sip her tea when he finally goes over.
"Hey, um, do I know you?"
It's the first time she looks at him properly, and there's amusement in her big, bright eyes.
"It's not going to work," she says, almost apologetically. Her heavy Scottish accent is not surprising for some reason.
"What?"
"Your whole routine. Not what I'm here for. And anyway, I'm married now, so..."
Dean recoils unconsciously, and she looks pleased with herself. She takes an actual sip from her cup before surveying him again.
"Are you just going to hover or are you going to sit down?"
"Uh, I thought you said..."
"Yeah, I'm not here for that. But I am here for you. So sit down, Dean."
His eyes widen. He thinks about drawing his gun, but there are too many people around. Instead he just sinks down into the booth, more out of shock than anything else.
"Who are you? Are you a cop?"
She lets out a genuine laugh at this. "No. Well, I do have the uniform, but..."
He looks at her again, and wonders if he's approaching this the right way. His hand starts travelling down towards the silver knife he has on his belt.
"I'm not a demon either," she says calmly.
He just stares.
"Come on, give it to me."
"What?"
"The flask in your pocket. Hand it over."
Dean slowly reaches inside his jacket and retrieves the silver flask. He sets it down in the centre of the table.
She swiftly removes the cap and pours a few drops into her teacup. She stirs and takes a long sip.
"See? There we go."
"Okay. So who are you, really? Are you a hunter?"
"No, I'm a friend."
"A friend of who?"
"Of yours."
"What?"
"From the future."
Dean really has no idea if she's being serious or not.
"Time-travel? Really? I'm supposed to believe that?"
"Oh, don't be such a cynic. You'll be doing it yourself soon."
"What?"
"Oh, shoot. Spoilers," she whispers.
"Okay, time-travelling, hot, Scottish girl from the future... Still probably not the weirdest thing I've seen. What are you doing here then?"
"I have a message."
"What, for me? From who?"
"From The Doctor."
"Doctor who?"
She smiles, almost nostalgically. "Ah, he would've loved to be here for this. Too bad it's not time yet."
"Time for what? Lady, could you stop with the cryptic bull-"
"Hey, mind your manners. And I'm not a lady. I'm Amy."
"Amy. Right. So what's this message?"
"Well, it's not actually a message. Because he doesn't actually know I'm here." She bites her lip guiltily, but then brightens again in a second. "But I know what he'll want me to tell you."
"And what's that?"
"Keep at it."
"Keep at it?"
"Yeah, you'll be okay, Dean. Just keep going."
"That's your message? Keep going?"
"Yes. I've seen your future, Dean. I've seen wonderful, amazing things. And I've seen terrible things. But it's important that you do them. You are important." She looks at him earnestly. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes drop to the table.
She slowly reaches out and rests a hand over his own.
"I believe in you, Dean."
They stay like that for a while.
Then he feels the pressure and warmth of her hand leave his. When he looks up, she's already walking out the door.
He hurries after her, but when he gets outside, she's already gone.
He swears, though, somewhere out in the dark and the distance, down the road, he sees something like a bright blue door disappearing into nothingness. He swears he hears a sound that's almost familiar, like he heard it a dream or some other life.
He swears that this feels like it's happened before.
He forgets about it, about Amy and the blue box and the mysterious Doctor, for a long while. But it's like her message stays with him anyway, somewhere deep down inside him, and when it gets really, really hard (as it's prone to within the next few years), he can almost feel like there's something out there, something magnificent and incredible, that's on his side. Not elusive like God or duplicitous like the angels, but someone real and good and compassionate.
When they come back, years and years later, he remembers everything.
Supernatural/Doctor Who crossover. Dean Winchester, Amy Pond. Set after series five of DW and during season one of SPN.
He sees her the first time in a diner. She's staring rather obviously.
He thinks she's trying to catch his eye, but when he does, she turns her head away, curtains of red hair hiding her face. Sometimes he can hear her giggle a little, even from the other side of the diner. He wonders if she's playing a game with him. And what the hell, he has some time to kill.
She's pretending to sip her tea when he finally goes over.
"Hey, um, do I know you?"
It's the first time she looks at him properly, and there's amusement in her big, bright eyes.
"It's not going to work," she says, almost apologetically. Her heavy Scottish accent is not surprising for some reason.
"What?"
"Your whole routine. Not what I'm here for. And anyway, I'm married now, so..."
Dean recoils unconsciously, and she looks pleased with herself. She takes an actual sip from her cup before surveying him again.
"Are you just going to hover or are you going to sit down?"
"Uh, I thought you said..."
"Yeah, I'm not here for that. But I am here for you. So sit down, Dean."
His eyes widen. He thinks about drawing his gun, but there are too many people around. Instead he just sinks down into the booth, more out of shock than anything else.
"Who are you? Are you a cop?"
She lets out a genuine laugh at this. "No. Well, I do have the uniform, but..."
He looks at her again, and wonders if he's approaching this the right way. His hand starts travelling down towards the silver knife he has on his belt.
"I'm not a demon either," she says calmly.
He just stares.
"Come on, give it to me."
"What?"
"The flask in your pocket. Hand it over."
Dean slowly reaches inside his jacket and retrieves the silver flask. He sets it down in the centre of the table.
She swiftly removes the cap and pours a few drops into her teacup. She stirs and takes a long sip.
"See? There we go."
"Okay. So who are you, really? Are you a hunter?"
"No, I'm a friend."
"A friend of who?"
"Of yours."
"What?"
"From the future."
Dean really has no idea if she's being serious or not.
"Time-travel? Really? I'm supposed to believe that?"
"Oh, don't be such a cynic. You'll be doing it yourself soon."
"What?"
"Oh, shoot. Spoilers," she whispers.
"Okay, time-travelling, hot, Scottish girl from the future... Still probably not the weirdest thing I've seen. What are you doing here then?"
"I have a message."
"What, for me? From who?"
"From The Doctor."
"Doctor who?"
She smiles, almost nostalgically. "Ah, he would've loved to be here for this. Too bad it's not time yet."
"Time for what? Lady, could you stop with the cryptic bull-"
"Hey, mind your manners. And I'm not a lady. I'm Amy."
"Amy. Right. So what's this message?"
"Well, it's not actually a message. Because he doesn't actually know I'm here." She bites her lip guiltily, but then brightens again in a second. "But I know what he'll want me to tell you."
"And what's that?"
"Keep at it."
"Keep at it?"
"Yeah, you'll be okay, Dean. Just keep going."
"That's your message? Keep going?"
"Yes. I've seen your future, Dean. I've seen wonderful, amazing things. And I've seen terrible things. But it's important that you do them. You are important." She looks at him earnestly. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes drop to the table.
She slowly reaches out and rests a hand over his own.
"I believe in you, Dean."
They stay like that for a while.
Then he feels the pressure and warmth of her hand leave his. When he looks up, she's already walking out the door.
He hurries after her, but when he gets outside, she's already gone.
He swears, though, somewhere out in the dark and the distance, down the road, he sees something like a bright blue door disappearing into nothingness. He swears he hears a sound that's almost familiar, like he heard it a dream or some other life.
He swears that this feels like it's happened before.
He forgets about it, about Amy and the blue box and the mysterious Doctor, for a long while. But it's like her message stays with him anyway, somewhere deep down inside him, and when it gets really, really hard (as it's prone to within the next few years), he can almost feel like there's something out there, something magnificent and incredible, that's on his side. Not elusive like God or duplicitous like the angels, but someone real and good and compassionate.
When they come back, years and years later, he remembers everything.