SuperWhoLock: When the Shadows Rage

Episode 3: Talking Shadows part 1

~*~Y'all! I'm so sorry this didn't get posted on Monday! This week has been a bit...interesting...to say the least. :/ Well, look at it this way, you don't have to wait as long for the next part! ;) ~*~

As soon as the machine stopped lurching, Dean slid to the floor, moaning. His eyes were clenched shut. "Are we done yet?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're done." Sam stood up, bracing on hand against the wall for balance, in case the Doctor suddenly started them off again.

Several staircases branched off the glass platform where the Doctor stood, two going up to doors and another heading downward to a brightly-lit hallway. The main room they stood in itself was probably twenty feet high, dimly light with orange lights set into the walls and ceiling. Beneath the glass console platform, there was another level that looked like it was filled with wires and electronics.

Sam grinned. This was awesome. Way better than anything he'd ever read about as a kid—and he'd devoured tons of science fiction and fantasy books when he was younger, constantly trying to escape the life his father was dragging them through. Someone cleared his throat. Sam looked up.

The Doctor stood at the top of the ramp, glaring down at Sam and Dean. He held up his hand, his fingers closed tight around Dean's gun. "You could've seriously hurt someone, and not the Cybermen, either!"

"Oh, please, give me a bit more credit than that." Dean's voice was strong, but he wobbled a little as he stood up.

"Is that what you do, travel around shooting first and asking questions later?"

"We kinda already had Q and A time, Doc, and those Cybermen weren't real friendly about it." Dean took a step forward and held out his hand. "Give my gun?"

"Sorry." The Doctor marched over to the console, crouched, and opened a panel beneath the round, instrument-filled panel. He chucked the gun inside and slammed the panel closed.

"Aw, c'mon," Dean muttered. "That was my favorite gun."

Amy stood up from one of the yellow-vinyl captain's chairs set beside the platform railing. "You have a favorite gun, really?"

"Don't start, Red."

She glared at him.

Sam blew out a breath. "Okay, anyone else feel like we got started off on the wrong foot?"

The Doctor's hard eyes softened a little. "Sorry. I just—I don't like guns. I find they generally seem to create more problems than they solve."

Dean snorted.

Sam glared at him, then turned back to the Doctor. "Okay, so, do the Cybermen usually attack like that? It seems a lot different than sneaking around and kidnapping people, which is what they've done so far."

"No. Right! It is different. Strange, not their usual M.O. at all." The Doctor fiddled with the strange copper tube he'd had earlier. He noticed Sam's curious look and grinned. "Sonic screwdriver. Handy little gadget, basically a Timelord's multi-tool."

"A what?" Dean asked.

"Timelord." The Doctor pointed to himself. "Me, Timelord."

Dean tucked his chin and raised his eyebrows. "Uh huh. Right. Sammy?" He jerked his head to the side. "Can we talk?"

"Just a minute," Sam said to the Doctor.

The brothers crowded to one side of the room, between the walls and one of the staircases. For a moment, they just watched as the Doctor moved around the console, pulling a couple of screens on swinging arms around and poking at different components on the console, all the while frowning and muttering to himself. Did he have an old telephone in the bank of buttons and switches? Amy leaned against the railing and occasionally threw glances over her shoulder at them.

Dean cleared his throat. "Dude, this is weird."

"Yeah," Sam said. "But it was on the website. This proves that the time-travel theory is true. This guy really does travel through time and help people."

"Bobby says there's no such thing as aliens, and you know who I'm inclined to trust right now?"

"Bobby."

"Bobby. Which means this guy is some paranoid delusional nutcase."

"Thank you!" the Doctor shouted.

Dean winced.

Sam chuckled. "And how do you explain the police box?"

For a moment, Dean was quiet, his lips pressed tightly together as he watched the Doctor and Amy. Sam could see the wheels turning in his brother's head, the older Winchester coming to a decision.

Dean shook his head, glanced over at the door. "No. No, no, no. Sam, the Cybermen were bad enough. We're not getting involved in any crazy alien stuff. I'm done. " He headed for the blue, glass-paneled door, raising his voice. "Hey, Doc? You know what, now that you know the problem, we're just gonna leave you to it, okay?"

"I wouldn't do that!" the Doctor said, coming to lean on the railing.

Dean pulled open the door. "Sonofa--!"

Over his brother's shoulder, Sam caught a glimpse of dark, rippling lake, the moon sending a track of silver through the gentle waves. Dean slammed the door shut and leaned on it, his shoulders tense.

"Where are we?" he demanded.

"Oh, about two hundred feet above the middle of Lake Superior," the Doctor said.

Dean clenched his hands into fists and thrust his chin forward as he slowly turned to meet the Doctor's gaze. Ready for a fight.

Aw, crap. Sam stepped between him and the Doctor, holding his hands out halfway between them. "Dean. Dude, stop."

"We're gettin' outta here, Sam." Dean's voice was low, tight. "Before this whack-job gets one of us hurt."

Before he gets you hurt. Sam could read between the lines. He sighed. "I don't think we're in any danger."

"Oh, really? Cause last I checked, humans aren't supposed to be hanging two hundred feet in the air! Don't tell me your little psychic weirdness crap is telling you we're okay, cause we're not."

The Doctor made an interested, "Hmm!" noise. "You're psychic?"

"Yes—no." Sam sighed. "It's a long story."

Something on the console beeped, and the Doctor ran to it. He turned one of the screens this way and that, then smiled. "Gotcha." He turned back to the Winchesters and calpped his hands together. "Right. I know you don't trust me yet—either of you, really—but the Cybermen have left the beach." He leaned forward, his forehead wrinkling as he looked at them with a deep, earnest expression. "I can drop you off at your car, and you can rest assured that I'll take care of this. But I'm guessing that neither of you are men who like to leave a job half-done, yes? So come with me. Help me get rid of the Cybermen, and then you can pop off to go do whatever it is you normally do. I won't even invite you to come travel in the TARDIS with me. That ought to make you happy, eh, Amy?"

The redhead smiled and shook her head. "Whatever, Doctor."

Sam glanced at Dean. Dean still looked irritated, but Sam could tell his brother was softening. The Doctor had pegged him—he didn't want to leave the job unfinished, especially not since those teens had vanished last night, after Dean had wanted to give up on the job.

"This job, and this job only," Dean said. "Then you drop us off at the car, and we don't ever hear from you again."

The Doctor grinned. "Better take a seat then, off we go!"

Dean scrambled for one of the vinyl chairs, and Sam followed. He couldn't help a small grin from forming on his face. They were in a spaceship. A spaceship. With aliens.

Bobby was never going to believe this.