The Impossible People

Chapter One

"Sammy! Pass me that wrench." Dean called, his head down in the engine of the '67 Chevy Impala.

Sam didn't look up from his book, his hand blindly moved over the table with tools. His fingers felt the cold metal of the wrench and he tossed it to Dean.

"Dang it Sam!" Dean yelled standing up, his head hit the hood of the car and another strain of mutterings came from his mouth. One hand held the back of his head from the hood, the other rubbed his lower back where the wrench had hit him. "You can't get your nose out of that book for one second can you?"

"Sorry, I thought you might be paying attention. Oh wait, you never do that." Sam hid the wild grin on his face behind his book.

"You're hilarious." Dean mocked a laugh, rolling his green eyes. "Want a beer?"

"Sure." Sam still didn't look up from his book, his hair falling in his face slightly.

"Okay good, you can get me one too."

"Now who's the funny guy?"

"Neither one of us, here I'll go with you, I need to call it a day anyways." Dean wiped his grease covered hands on the back of his jeans. His plain black t-shirt shone in a few places where the grease had been rubbed in. He shut the hood of the car a little harder than usual. Dean sucked in a quick gasp of air between his teeth, a sharp hissing sound being produced. He patted the the cool black metal lovingly. "Sorry Baby, I didn't mean it."

"Do I need to leave you two alone?" Sam asked tucking his book into his back pocket and picking up the plate Dean had brought out earlier with a sandwich.

Dean glared at his little brother who jogged up to the house. Dean loved Sam but he could be a real, how do you put it, younger sibling. Annoying, whiny, demanding, and reckless. Yet oddly, through all that they're lovable, sometimes.

Sam slid a beer across the table to Dean. He popped it open and took a long drink. Sam had his book out again and was nose deep in it.

"What is that book about anyways?" Dean spun a chair around backwards and straddled it, his elbows resting on the back of the chair, the bottle dangling from his calloused fingers.

"It's some new thing Bobby found about vampires." Sam took a sip from his bottle, never tearing his eyes away from the book.

"Is it any good?" Dean ran a hand through his short hair out of habit, dark streaks were left from the small spots of grease still on his hands. The man didn't have a very high regard for hygiene, or he did, it just wasn't in his top 5 list of priorities.

"It's got some good truths in it. Bobby said he hasn't read it for himself yet but some old hunter gave it to him."

"No sparkles yet?" Dean scratched his nose, a black smudge was left.

"Not yet. But I'll let you know when a Cullen pops up." Sam chuckled under his breath. He looked up for a second as Dean got up from his chair. A glimpse of brown hair with black streaks running through it was enough to make Sam do a double take. He stared with his mouth hanging open, a laugh slowly emerging the hole in his face.

"Keep your mouth open like that you might catch something." Dean finished off his beer and tossed it in the trash.

"You might want to take a shower." Sam said, his eyes now not returning to the book as earlier they would've done.

"I don't smell that bad, do I?" Dean's brow furrowed deeply.

"No, it's your hair. You ran grease all through it."

"Whatever. I'll wash it out later." Dean shrugged it off.

"It looks like there's a mangled skunk on your head dude."

"Thanks for the image."

"I won't stop until you wash it out. It looks really dumb."

"I'll take the freakin shower. But I have a feeling that this is so you can have some quiet time and obsessively read that book."

"I don't have to do obsessive reading in private Dean, I do that in front of people already. But yeah some quiet would be appreciated, skunk."

"You're a jerk."

"Right back atcha."

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Dean returned from his shower with slightly damp hair, dark wash jeans that swung low on his hips, and a forest green button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

As usual he had a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, you couldn't go anywhere with one of the Winchesters without them bringing some kind of weapon. This made for interesting dates.

Sam looked at Dean, who had sat across from him, with a peculiar face.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That odd noise, like a dying engine. There it is again!" He stood up this time and Dean looked at him like he had two heads.

"What are you talking about? There's no dying engine noise. What the-"

Soon Dean and Sam were no longer in their house. They were standing in a yellowish tinted room that smelled of tea, sugar cookies, and old wood. There were large circle things on the wall and lights that faded in and out. The floor beneath them was a gold colored metal that matched most of the surfaces in the room.

"Oopsie, didn't mean to land there. Let's see. Utah, Utah. I need to get to Utah." A lanky man ran around on a metal platform with glass on top. He had floppy brown hair that hung to the left of his face, a rather square chin, a bright red bow tie stood out against his baby blue shirt and tweed jacket. His dark pants, which were rather tight, came down just above a pair of brown leather boots. The man seemed, in a word. Crazy. Absolutely crazy, all of his marbles gone, or actually he never had marbles. He just sat there with an empty sack and was happy with it.

When the man spied Dean and Sam who were still standing in total shock at the sight around him, his face screwed up and he wrung his long sinewy fingers.

"Who are you and how did you get on my ship? Are you some kind of spy? Did Amy send you?" The man pulled a long metal object out of his inside jacket pocket. It whirred mechanically and made a little pop sound when he flicked it in the air, it's neon green light flashed a few times and the man looked at the side of the object.

Both of the boys pulled out their guns, extending them at arms length at the man.

"Put the metal stick down." Dean said. Once that was done, with much reluctance from the man, Dean asked. "What's your name?"

"I'm The Doctor."

"Doctor Who?"