WhoNautral - 10th Doctor/Supernatural

21

Apologies for the long wait. I'd say I was being productive but let's be real, I was bingeing Game of Thrones.

The Doctor closed the door of the TARDIS behind him, a heavy sigh falling past his lips. He was greeted with silence save for the calm rhythmic rise and fall of the machine's breath. He walked slowly to the main control panel, folding his coat over the railing. He leaned his forearms on her edge, looking up admiringly at the soft blue glow of her central pillar.

"Thank you, old friend," He spoke to her gently. "You always know exactly where I need to go, even when I don't." He reached out and gave the TARDIS an affectionate pat, almost swearing he could hear her give a contented sigh in reply. The Doctor listened to the silence for a moment, letting it wash slowly over him before meandering toward the big lever on the other side of the panel, hands in his pockets. He took his time, dread beginning to creep its way up his spine. Somehow, the thought of facing the friends he had pushed away, seeing their hurt and betrayed faces scared him more than what Lucifer had in store for him. He had come eye-to-eye with death and fear more times than he could count, and nothing frightened him more than hurting those who placed their trust in him. The Doctor rubbed his eyes, feeling incredibly old in that moment. I'm nine-hundred and six, I think I'm entitled, he thought, chuckling sadly. He grasped the lever and pulled it down. Another sigh.

****

Castiel raised his head sharply, like a dog catching onto a scent. The impala's engine rumbled, soft and low, and its headlights pierced through the darkness, lighting the black road. The radio hissed with static, coming into focus every now and then with old blues. They had been driving for a few hours now, Sam diligently at the wheel while his brother took advantage of a rare moment of rest. Dean's chair was tilted back slightly, soft snores escaping him every so often. Feeling guilty, Castiel leaned forward and patted Dean's arm lightly, causing him to stir.

"Dean. Sam."

"Mmmph. Cas, what...?" Dean asked blearily, still half asleep.

"I know where he is. The Doctor."

"Where? How?" Sam perked up, eager for news.

"My going theory is that for whatever reason I can't locate him while he's using his..." Castiel faltered.

"...Space-ship?" Dean offered, rubbing the sleep off his face with a forearm.

"Yeah, that. But the second half of the theory is that if I can see him, Lucifer can too."

"Of course." Dean grumbled, fiddling irritably with the height of his seat. "Where is he, then?"

"Back at the motel."

"Then let's go have a chat." Said Sam before jerking the steering wheel, sending the Impala into a tight U-turn, tyres squealing. He ignored Dean's angry "Watch it!" and pressed his foot a little heavier on the accelerator. He gave his brother a sidelong glance, a satisfied smile spreading over his features. "What? You do it," He reasoned.

"Yeah, but that's okay because it's me." Dean whined before turning to face Castiel. "Shut up."

"I – I didn't say anything!" Castiel raised his hands in a faux peace gesture.

"You were thinking it."

The Impala sped through the night.

****

The Doctor twiddled his fingers anxiously as he sat on the musty motel bed. It still stinks, he thought broodingly. Unable to sit still for too long, he jumped up and began pacing, his coat swirling around his ankles. Movement always encouraged him to think. It wasn't long, however, before the shadows in the corners loomed larger than he previously thought, the wind sending the thin spindly branches of a tree scraping ominously across the window. A car backfired suddenly in the distance, causing The Doctor to jump in alarm. He sat back down with a huff. He wanted to stop thinking now. He waited in silence at the table, occasionally taking his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket to fiddle absently with, the mindless action comforting him slightly.