SuperWhoLock: When the Shadows Rage

Episode 3: Talking Shadows part 3

~*~OK, sorry again. Monday's just a terrible day for me all the way around. I'm moving the update day to Tuesday. *Heat of the Moment echoes in the background*
Also, the question was asked about when this story is set in the Supernatural timeline. It's somewhere between the Season 2 episodes "Bloodlust" and "Croatoan". I know the timelines don't match up in real life (as the Doctor's timeline is between season 6 and 7, and [when they arrive, eventually--soon, I promise!--Sherlock's timeline is at the end of Season 3), but just play along with me here. ;)
Part of the reason I did this was because when I started this fic, I had just started season 2 (I'm now in the middle of season 6...Sammy's back to normal, yay!) and also because I wanted a point in the guys' lives when they were still relatively happy. So, unfortunately, there will be no Cas, no Gabriel, no Crowley--sorry to all who have been asking.
HOWEVER--I already have an idea for a couple more fics, one of at least is SuperWhoLock, set in the later seasons of Supernatural. So, Cas will go on an adventure in the TARDIS at some point in the near future. :)
And as always, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed. All y'alls' reactions have been a constant source of inspiration and encouragement to me! As always, enjoy this episode!~*~

The Doctor's voice echoed in the room, deep and somber in the finality of his declaration.

Dead, Sam thought. How can the Cybermen be dead? They were shooting at us less than an hour ago.

The Doctor raised his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at one of the consoles. The lights in the room brightened, enough that Sam switched off his flashlight. The Doctor was right. The Cyberman lying at his feet didn't move, didn't even twitch as the Doctor stepped over him and started tapping the screens on one of the consoles. Another Cyberman sprawled in a chair by the left-hand computers, arms dangling toward the floor, head cocked much too far to one side. The others were lying in a tangle near the front of the room.

A flash of pink caught Sam's eye. He tapped Dean's shoulder and moved forward, stepping over the Cyberman body, brushing past the Doctor. He rounded the console where he'd seen the pink and stopped, cringing.

Two almost adult-size skeletons, clad in jeans, one in a fleecy pink jacket, and the other in a gray hoodie, lay curled in the corner between the wall and the console, as if trying to escape the carnage.

Dean swore.

Sam gulped down acid and knelt, reaching out to finger the edge of the gray NMU hoodie. "Their clothes are fine, but their bodies look like they've been buried for years."

"Not buried," Dean said, his voice artificially calm. "The bones aren't stained. It's more like they've been…dipped in acid or something that completely stripped the flesh from them."

Sam winced as he stood. "Thanks for that."

"This is wrong, this is just wrong!" the Doctor said. He stepped up beside Dean, and his face hardened even more at the sight of the teenagers' skeletons.

"Doc…" Sam stepped around the console.

The Doctor's arm shot out, grabbing the front of Sam's shirt.

"Doctor!" Amy cried.

"Did you do this? I saw the scorch mark on that Cyberman's chest. Is this your fault?" the Doctor snarled at Sam.

Sam's stomach sank. He knows about the demons after me. He knows…

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean slowly reached for the Doctor's wrist and grasped it. "This ain't our fault."

Our fault. Sam swallowed hard. He's blaming Dean too, not just me. He can't know about the demons.

"I blasted that Cyberman with a flare gun, dude. It shouldn't have done anything other than freak it out a little. We told you the truth, we didn’t do this. Besides, we were with you in the TARDIS, remember?"