(Author's note: The Caliborn in here is not the character from Homestuck. I just think the name is cute. And the timelines for this is that Castiel is still angel, Sherlock didn't jump yet and the Doctor didn't have the series 7 finale yet. And Sam pronounces Clara weird because as an American I think that pronunciation is friggin' crazy, so I guess he would too. And he wouldn't know if it's an alien name or not.) :33


Now back to the alley.

The obnoxious yells of the daleks were washed out by the scream of the child, the child who we now know as Oni. Her mouth was opened wide and her head thrown back as black smoke expelled viciously from her small orifice into the stale air. "WHAT? WHAT IS THIS?" The dalek's vision that displayed from his eye stalk was only showing complete darkness. The smoke swirled around the dalek's armor, searching for a chink to invade. The eye stalk was the only way to affect the Dalek, it seemed.

"WHAT? WHAT IS WRONG?" The other dalek said. He spun around in confusion attempting to find the problem, he hadn't been close enough to see the smoke when it had erupted. "THE SM...NOTHING. NOTHING IS WRONG. I WAS JUST... SEEING THINGS." The Other dalek, who will henceforth be known as simply Dalek, spun around. "HMMMM? THEN WERE WE NOT IN THE MIDST OF EXTERMINATING?" "YES. YES WE WERE." exclaimed the demon smart enough to find a chink in almost flawless armor. The demon, known as Caliborn, was first to move towards the girl.

His new noodle face was strange to be in, even he, a parasite who uses others as involuntary hosts, had to admit to himself that daleks were really lazy. They had controls and everything. They never really have to move their true forms themselves. The dalek he possessed wasn't even fighting back. He let himself be possessed and has no feelings about it. He decided he'd have to look into that later. All the memories,friendships, mannerisms and anything else he needed to not be caught by Dalek. These things may be the easiest things I ever possessed, He hovered to the limp body of Oni Uta. Her eyes were closed and her body shivering. She had decided the best way to survive the situation was to pretend she wasn't there, but somewhere safe. She had no idea where she was. All she knew was that she was witnessing a conversation between two extra-terrestrial being who wanted to "exterminate" her for no good reason.

"I WILL HAVE FUN WITH THIS. KILLING THIS ONE WILL MAKE ME HAPPY." said Caliborn. "HAPPY? DALEKS DO NOT FEEL. ARE YOU BECOMING INFERIOR?" Caliborn pointed his whisk-like appendage towards the child and fired. The blue light struck her in a second."DOES THIS ANSWER YOUR QUESTION?" Dalek observed the death questionably as the radioactive light faded in the alley. "I SUPPOSE SO." Dalek would have to be keeping a close watch on his companion. Inferiority is to be exterminated. "NOW COME, UMMM... COMPANION. I HAVE JUST HAD AN IDEA FOR WHERE WE CAN OBTAIN A HUMAN OF SUPERIOR INTELLECT. BUT WE MUST TAKE A STOP FIRST."


And that is how we got here.

"I'm the Doctor!" said the tall man with a strange glowing stick. He stood as if he were ready to pounce at any given moment, with his hand holding the stick outstretched towards the men. "The Doctor. He is known for his entrances." Castiel grumbled. Time Lords. "They challenge even the entrances of even the greatest of archangels, and rumored, even God's." Doctor smiled and walked towards Cas, slipping an arm over his shoulder. "I remember that you make quite the entrance too, mate. Don't sell yourself short!" He then slipped the what Sherlock deduced to be a screwdriver of some sort, into his coat pocket with his free hand.

Dean held a hand up in protest. "Hey, hold on Cas. You were just going on about how this guy is feared and worshiped even more than anything we'll ever know. This guy? Are you sure?" He stepped in between them, pushing Cas behind him. Intense judgmental eye contact accommodated his words to the Doctor. "How is he even British? I doubt they've developed British accents in fuckin' space, man. I mean, it's stupid to assume they'd speak with an American accent, but British seems even less likely. Also, he is wearing a bow tie, man. And suspenders. How could he do that?" Dean pointed to the corpse. A bow tie sort of man would not be dangerous. A bow tie sort of man doesn't cause someone's soul to be in a weird time vortex. The Doctor frowned and spiffed up his tie "I'd be happy to inform you, sir, that bow ties are COOL. And suspenders keep up the 'ol trousers, while accenting my frame in wonderful and marvelous ways, if I do say so myself." He snapped his suspenders while he turned towards the corpses.

Upon setting his eyes on the female his cheerful expression darkened. That's why TARDIS brought him here. He caressed her cheek ever so gently, a bitter smile on his face while he whispered softly "Clara, my impossible girl. What have you gotten your self into this time?" Then Sam stepped in. "Um, excuse me, sorry for interrupting, or whatever, but um, who is this Klar-Uh girl your talking about, is she some sort of alien too?" The Doctor looked up at Sam grimly. "No. I have no idea what she is. Not yet, anyways." Sam wasn't too pleased with that answer.

The Doctor backed away and glanced towards the back of the room where standing at the door was Watson and Sherlock. He lightened up almost instantly. Someone he knew that brought him no sadness! He sprinted towards them and tried to hug them both at the same time. "Well isn't it the lovely Holmes and Dr. Watson! You lot look so much younger! What year is it?" When the Doctor released them, they were so confused. "Um, sorry, when did we meet? We would probably remember meeting someone like you." John asked. The Doctor looked around quickly and shrugged,barely murmuring his answer. He couldn't tell them about what happened, or at least what he was told had happened.

"A good while back. You said it wasn't the first time we worked together." Sherlock was taken aback, a good while back and you look so much younger. Sherlock definitely would have remembered meeting him. Never he would have forgotten something with someone as peculiar and brilliant as the Doctor. How could he have looked older in the past? "It's 2013. What year did we meet?" Sherlock inquired. The Doctor held his mouth open a bit like he was going to respond, but turned his back to them instead. He walked over to Sam. Sam wasn't asking questions that would likely cause destruction or confusion.

"Sorry for being so rude, ignoring you. I am The Doctor! Who are you?" The Doctor held out his hand with a smile which Sam cautiously accepted. "Um, I'm Sam Winchester. I'm a hunter. So is my brother Dean, who you talked to already. And that's our friend Castiel, an angel. But you seem to have met already." The Doctor continued to shake his hand vigorously as if a little off-put by something he had said. He was off-put because he knew he had heard those names before. Sam, visibly weirded out, tried to get his hand back, to no avail.

"I-if you don't mind me asking what are you the doctor of, why are you here, how did you come in through a blue box that randomly materialized, how do you know Klar-uh, and how do you know Cas?" The Doctor dropped Sam's hand and walked to his box. He pushed in the door with a gentle hand and mischievous look towards his audience. "Come with me boys. I'll answer all those questions." He disappeared into the box, for a second he held his head out and winked, then left the door ajar behind him.

Castiel began to walk towards the door too, before Dean's arm stopped him. Dean really wasn't going to let Castiel to go in a small box with any weird guys especially that guy. "What, Dean? It's not like I haven't been in there before." Dean was shocked. His angel went in there with him. No. "You willingly went into a small blue box with a strange foreign alien man? I don't think daddy taught you the right way to talk to strangers, did he?" Cas rolled his eyes and appeared next to the box's door and walked inside. Sherlock and John shared a look and decided to follow in the angel's footsteps. Why not? The morning couldn't get any crazier.

Sam looked at Dean, challenging him. "If you want to stay and make out with the dead bodies, be my guest. I want answers." Sam walked past Dean into the doorway of the box. Dean glared a hole into Sam and yelled as he walked past. If looks could kill, Sam would be dead again. "Come on Sammy, you are the human equivalent of a moose or something and you are about to go into a small box with an otter, hedgehog, kitten and an alien giraffe. It will be a zoo Sam! A fucking zoo!" Sam already was in the box by the time Dean ended his ranting. His body, strangely did not stick out nor did Dean hear any complaints. The door was left slightly ajar, but he could not see inside. How could they all fit in? Dean looked at the bed of the dead bodies and then back to the box. Bed or box. Bed or Box. Fuck it, Dean thought. He went to the door and looked inside.


Inside he could see that there was a platform in the center of the room and that there seemed to be, actually a lot of space. A lot more than he could tell from looking from the outside. He could see Castiel following close with his brother and the two English detectives. Sherlock was inquiring information on everything he could from his surroundings. Just a good while ago, he was a very professional and very atheistic detective on a case but at this moment, it seemed he was a new born baby, open to the ideas of angles, monsters, aliens and even a relative dimension in the form of a police box.

John was so taken aback. Almost everything he knew was a lie. Later he was going to have an existential crisis. Sam's reaction was barely a reaction. Very similar to learning about a new element or something. It affected him in someway, but he really didn't care too much. He was amazed and wondered about somethings but he'd seen so much bull shit in his life time, it would have to take a lot more to surprise him. He came in today looking to solve a case, but ended up learning that aliens do exist. What the fuck ever, Sam Winchester was so tired of shit today, not even a time machine could change his attitude. The Doctor was fondling his controls when he noticed Dean. "Oh, We're all here! That's great. Welcome to the TARDIS!" He held his arms out in gesture to the large room. "Go ahead, guys! Say the thing!" Sam looked towards the Doctor. "Does this place have wifi?" Sam asked, nonchalantly.

The Doctor looked very disappointed but answered anyways. "Yes, of course, Sam." John looked around a bit and said to Sherlock, "It's a lot bigger on the inside." The doctor pointed at him. "Thank you. That is the thing, that is the thing I wanted!" Dean decided then was a perfect time to interject. "Okay, as much as I'd love to hear about how big you are and science and all the shit, there are more important things to discuss; Up until like, ten minutes ago, maybe? We thought aliens didn't exist. Faeries with nipples that flipped their shit when people dropped sugar existed, and they created the illusion of abduction and aliens and all that bullshit. What the fuck, man?"

Dean had walked up the staircase which lead to the TARDIS controls, where everyone else was. "American Anderson is right. You led us in here promising answers, yet all you have done is make us have more questions." Sherlock was infuriated with confusion and the lack of answers. He was about to go crazy. Holding his tongue had happened several times that day and was becoming a nuisance.

"Who the fuck is Anderson?" Dean asked. He could infer that whoever he was, Sherlock was not to particularly fond of him. "That doesn't matter. Right now what matters is answers. Answers to questions you will ask me slowly and not all at once." As expected, everyone asked at once. "Castiel. You go first." The Doctor had no idea why Castiel would have a question, so he seemed more interesting. They do go a while back. The big weeping Angel massacre of '69.

"Why are you here? You usually only arrive when something really bad is going to occur." The Doctor smiled. Castiel hadn't meet the Doctor while TARDIS decided to take her own path, and ship herself where she wanted to. He explained what happened and also that he decided to stop repeating who he is every time he leaves the TARDIS, so he instead announces that he is the Doctor as soon as he arrives. "Any other questions?" The Doctor then went on to explaining everything about the time and relative dimension in space, explaining theories to assist their understanding. He also explained all he knew about Clara, his sonic screwdriver and about him being a Time Lord. He however, did not explain how he met Castiel because weeping angels were most likely the least of his concern at the moment.

"Now you have to tell me things. I have no idea what's going on. I may seem like I do but I don't." The humans worked on explaining to him everything they learned about the chimney-crawling demon child. Which wasn't much. They only knew it was a chimney-crawling demon child that somehow killed two people with focused energy and radiation without leaving evidence. It was not much help to the Doctor. At least at first. "I may have to examine those bodies. I may know something that could have done that." And just like that they were standing over the corpses again.

"Yes. Yes. Just as I thought." The Doctor said after less than a minute of observation. It had to be the daleks. Her internal organs were scrambled, he knew that was the last sign that always confirmed dalek attacks. "It was the daleks." The others were confused at first until they were filled in. "Well then, How did they get in?" Sherlock decided it was time to show off. He walked into the living room gleefully. He was in his zone.

" The demon girl would to have been possessed and walked from her room into the chimney and crawled up the sides creepily. When she escaped she went somewhere. Where ever she went, she met with the daleks and got them to come here, through this house's rather wide chimney. But she herself did not return. Which is obvious. The daleks left no marks nor left a difference in the soot because, as the Doctor explained, they have no feet but instead hover. They went into to the parent's room and killed them. Why? That is one thing we just need to find out. The others are where the demon met the daleks and why."

During Sherlock's rant, it was obvious that the people listening were trying to take mental notes. It took a while after he was finished for anyone to speak up. "Correct," Said the Doctor. "You're just as bright as when I first met you, Holmes." Sherlock looked at John. He hadn't really been noticing how John was feeling. It wasn't really the Sherlock way to pretend to care. But he did.

John looked incredibly stressed. And John was incredibly stressed. Angels, aliens, daleks, time travel, demons? He was beginning to wish he never left England. It was just to much for him. Murder mysteries and solving crime was fun. Finding out that all this shit existed while trying to have that fun was not fun. John wanted to leave. Goodbye America, nice being here but to many aliens for lil' ol' Watson! Sherlock had taken note of this. "Oh, look at the time. It's already four in the afternoon. Didn't have lunch or supper yet. Me and John will be off. Goodbye."

John's arm was grabbed and led out of the house. If anyone said anything they didn't hear it nor did they walked out onto the driveway and down some streets until they found a bus stop on a busy looking street. Sherlock only then let John go and turned him towards himself. "You seem like you're not okay. Are you okay? Of course you're not okay, why did I ask? Calm down, John. We're going to wait for a bus. Then we'll go back to the hotel or out to eat if that's what you want." Sherlock was freaking out a bit. He didn't know how to react to his friend at the moment. John wasn't responding, just looking down and nodding or slightly mumbling in response.

Luckily for the two of them, a bus came by after about ten minutes. Not a word more was shared between them. The bus happened to drop off a block or two down from their hotel, Sherlock recognized the view from yesterday. Walking down the crowded pavement of America's capital wasn't too positive of an experience. Especially when your dragging around a freaked-out companion. When they finally arrived to their hotel room, Sherlock opened the door and sat John down on his bed. "Now tell me exactly what is wrong. You haven't talked since we left the TARDIS."

John sat straight and ran his fingers through his hair. He barley mumbled the words past his chapped lips "That's the point. There are TARDISes and angels and demons and aliens. Then, look at Sam, Dean and Castiel, they're handsome and they kill the evil things and save people. They're practically gods. The Doctor is a bloody alien for Christ's sake. And even you, you're a genius and solve crimes that you otherwise didn't know could be possible for more than a couple of hours. And then me. I am a middle-aged single doctor. I'm useless. I'm like a vestigial wheel of the universe or something. Why do you even bother to bring me places with you?" John really let his heart out there and Sherlock noticed.

"You are not completely useless. You got shot in war and survived. You are a doctor, you can save people too John. Don't be ridiculous." John still remained upset. "You are my friend too. I do need someone to talk to sometimes, you know. You fill that spot the best." John let out a bitter laugh. "What, better than your skull?" John laid back on Sherlock's bed. Sherlock sat on the other side of his bed, away from John. "Yes." Was simply all he said. "Maybe the Doctor should be your friend. He is more useful and seems to like you just fine. You could be his companion and go off into space. And I will sit in the flat waiting for you to return like a lovesick housewife with her husband off at war." Interesting. Sherlock mostly ignored the subliminal implications of his analogy, for now. "It would take a lot more than what you're giving to me to make me feel better." John whined. His words were slightly muffled by the pillow his face was smothered by. Sherlock didn't know what else to do. He had complimented him, told him he was his friend and a friend better than his skull, dammit. That is best and beyond of what Sherlock knew of genuine consoling.

"John. I don't know if this really counts as a compliment or not, or if it will even take it seriously, But," Sherlock breathed hesitantly between his words. John shifted a bit in suspense. "You know how lungs, they help take the oxygen in, what is necessary for the rest of the body to survive. And then they help expel the hazardous and poisonous chemicals from the blood and heart." John turned slowly to Sherlock. Sherlock was blushing a bit, and trying to hide his face from John. His embarrassment only made John want to pry him more."I'm sorry, I don't understand. Could you get to the point?" Sherlock sighed. "I know this sounds ridiculous. You are not just my friend. You are my lungs. I guess I didn't or-er-don't breathe right, hypothetically, without you." John sat up properly and thought a bit. He basically just said that he needed him as if he were a basic necessity. He sort of just said he loved him.

Sherlock was still sitting with his back to John, blushing. John got off the bed and went over to Sherlock. "That may be the best thing anybody ever told me. Ever." He then took Sherlock's chin in his hand and kissed him. Sherlock was surprised at first, but after a second kissed him back. After a while, Sherlock flipped John under him on the bed. Leave the rest of the night to your imagination.