SuperWhoLock: When the Shadows Rage

Episode 9: Black Eyes Part 1

~*~Hey guys! Sorry I missed this on Tuesday. I was gone for the entire day. :P Just a little update—I've caught up in Supernatural and now have to become like everyone else, waiting on the edge of my seat from week to week. Inside Man, whew! Probably one of my favorites thus far of Season 10. Enjoy this episode! ~*~

After putting their stuff away, Sam changed into a pair of gym shorts and an old, bleached-red t-shirt, and headed to the end of the hallway, where the library-pool door had been teasing him for the last two days. He pushed open the door and inhaled the familiar scent of chlorine and mold, just like every other indoor pool he'd ever visited in his life.

The Olympic-sized pool sat at the front of the room, with several deck chairs scattered along one side of the tiled floor. There was even a bin to one side with a stack of pool towels. Beyond the pool, shelves of books stretched away as far as he could see.

Sam skirted around the pool and walked to the closest shelf, running his fingers along the spines. How was the Doc keeping them in such good condition with the humid air? There were all sorts of books—history, fiction, self-help, theology, mythology—but this particular shelf seemed to be dominated in classic science fiction. I, Robot; Dune; Ender's Game; Ray Bradbury's Martian Chronicles...they were all there, all the science fiction books Sam had remembered reading as a kid, and a few he'd forgotten about. He pulled out Lucky Starr and the Space Pirates, written by Isaac Asimov under the pen name Paul French, and grinned.

"This is sweet," he whispered, paging through the slim novel. It smelled just like his copy of the Lucky Starr series had—old, musty, just a hint of cigarette smoke clinging to the pages from the old second-hand store where he'd found it.

He looked up. "You're doing this, aren't you?" he asked the TARDIS. "Pulling these things from my memories?"

The TARDIS whistled.

"Anywhere else, that'd just be creepy."

He took the novel back to the pool and stretched out on one of the deck chairs. Despite the clammy air, the temperature of the room was perfect, not too cold like some indoor pools, and not filled with humid fog like others. If he closed his eyes, Sam could imagine he was sitting at an outdoor pool with the sun shining on him.

He let himself get lost in the pulp sci-fi story. He and Dean kept a stack of used books in a box in the back seat, occasionally trading them out at a used bookstore when the box was overflowing, but it was a rare moment that he had all the time in the world to read like he wanted.

A splash pulled him from the story. Sam lowered the book. Amy was floating on her back in the pool. She turned to treading water as he sat up.

"Finally," she said. "I was wondering when you were going to notice someone else was here. What're you reading?"

Sam smiled and tucked the book between the chair arm and seat. "Just an old story I remember from when I was a kid. What's up? What time is it?"

"Mid-afternoon. John said he tried to call you for lunch, but you didn't answer. He thought you were still mad at Sherlock for what had happened."

Sam grimaced. He was, but he hadn't meant to snub the others.

The door swung open, and the Doctor barreled through, wearing an old-fashioned red swimming suit with white stripes around the legs. He jumped off the tile and curled, landing in a neat cannon ball next to Amy. She yelped as water splashed over her. As the Doctor came up for air, Amy shoved him down again, laughing.

"Is Dean back yet?" Sam asked, moving to the side of the swimming pool. He let his legs dangle in the water.

The Doctor came up, gasping, and moved out of Amy's reach. "No, he's not."