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Out of Order

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Summary: Meetings with the Doctor are rarely simple. Of course, if you're unlucky, they're rarely in the proper order either. Written for the xover_exchange at LJ.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories > Crossover: Dr. Who/TorchwoodCarnenFR1312,0701561526 Nov 1026 Nov 10Yes
Title: Out of Order
Characters: Amy, Eleven, Ten, Martha, Dean, Sam
Pairings: none
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 2005
Spoilers: vague season 5 spoilers for Supernatural and Doctor Who
Warnings: bit of language
Disclaimer: Supernatural and Doctor Who belong to their respective creators
A/N: Getting sick when you have to write on a deadline is not fun. Thanks to my beta aeryes!

"Why do haunted houses have to be so creepy every time?"

"It goes with the territory, Dean. They're haunted. They're supposed to be creepy."

"Whatever, man. Just once, I'd like to do a salt and burn someplace nice, you know? Somewhere the floorboards aren't threatening to crumble under your gigantic feet."

And really, this whole thing was almost worth it just for Sam's bitch face. But this house was creepy. Sometimes it seemed like the grander the houses were, the creepier they were. Sometimes, the grander they were, the gaudier they were as well. Honestly, who thought all the angel statues were a good decorating move?

"We're on a job!"

Dean sighed. So much for a little break to get their mind off of the all encompassing threat of the Apocalypse.

"Dude, relax. It's just a haunting. We find, we salt, we burn. Piece of cake."

"Just watch out for those statues. The only eye-witness said-"

"Yeah, yeah, they we moving around and if we don't get out of the way fast enough we'll be flattened like pancakes."


"You're such a worrywart, Sammy," Dean said, not listening. He was busy trying to see if the ghost of what's-his-name was still around.


"What, Sammy?" he turned around and brought his shotgun up. Standing right in front of Sam was one of those creepy-ass angel statues that absolutely littered the place. And not one of the tiny cherub ones that Dean had half a mind to blast to smithereens when he saw them covering the lawn of this place, but one of the full-sized, wimpy crying ones.

Only, it wasn't so much crying now as it had its arms outstretched, grabbing at them and a face only a mother could love. Fangs and everything. It looked more demon than angel now.

"So I wasn't imagining it," Sam said faintly.

"Why isn't it attacking?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Sam answered, shotgun trained squarely at the statue.

It looked like it had been frozen in the middle of doing so. A bad feeling rose in Dean's gut. He spared a quick glance around the old and crumbling, but still somehow stately house. None of the other statues had moved. Only...

"Keep watching that thing. If it so much as twitches, blast it to Hell."

He could almost feel Sam's desire to roll his eyes. He smirked, then focused on the simple haunting that turned out to be not-so-simple.

There had been another statue like the one in front of Sam a little ways back. Dean looked to where he'd seen it. The alcove it had been in was empty.


He whirled around back-to-back with Sam and froze. Another one of the statues was only a few feet away from him, caught in an eerie silent grabbing motion.

"I don't think they can move, Dean. Not as long as we're watching them."

"Great. So we're stuck in a staring contest with lumps of rock. Where's Cas when you need him?"

"I don't know about you, Dean, but sooner or later I'm going to blink. Who knows how fast these guys are?"

"Let's blow this joint," Dean agreed. He cocked his shotgun and shot at the statue in front of him, just as Sam did the same to his. They wouldn't do much damage to stone, seeing as how they came prepared for a haunting, but it served the purpose of a distraction. They bolted out of the house and didn't look back.


The Doctor burst into the motel room and started pacing, hands waving erratically.

"Why didn't I see it before? It's so obvious! Of course, been a bit busy, what with the universe ending, but when isn't it these days? But to not see this? It was staring at me right in the face and I just couldn'" he trailed off when he saw the Winchester brother's expressions. Their guns were trained on him, even through their confusion. The Doctor's smile faded. That look and those guns rarely boded well for him.

"Sorry, did I get the year wrong again?"

Their confusion deepened. The Doctor gave them a nervous smile and took the opportunity to dart out of the room. A shot rang after him. Really, it was a miracle they hadn't actually shot him yet considering the amount of times they'd shot at him.

"Stop shooting at me! Again! Always with the guns!" he called back, but didn't slow down.

Further down the dingy hall, Amy appeared, looking harried.


"Not now, Amy!" the Doctor grabbed her arm as he ran past, pulling her along.

She resisted a bit, her eyes widening when she saw Sam and Dean burst out of their room, guns out.

"Did you get the year wrong again?"

Now was hardly the time to discuss his driving, however accurate her comment was. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"Less talking, more running!"

Amy stiffled a giggle, but followed the Doctor out of the motel. Thankfully, the TARDIS was just up ahead. Right before Amy closed the doors behind them, she looked out again.

"See you boys later!" She winked. The door shut and the TARDIS dematerialized.

Dean looked at Sam.

"Dude, what the Hell?"

Sam could only shrug.


"-nk, don't even blink! Blink and you're dead. They are fast, faster than you can believe. Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink! Good luck!"

Dean watched as the laptop screen went blank.

"Son of a bitch!"


"Aliens, Dean?"

He ignored Sam's disbelief.

"Well, that's what the weird British video dude said," he shrugged and ate a bit more of his breakfast.

"Look, I'm not saying they are aliens, but everything in that video fit! Though the guy seemed to be having a one-way conversation," he spoke through a mouthful of food, also ignoring Sam's look of disgust.

"And time-travel?"

Dean let the sounds of the cheerful diner they were in wash over them as he quieted. The time-travel part he had no trouble believing.

"Just watch the video, alright?"

Sam looked dubious.

"If this is another one of your porn video pranks-"


"I'm serious! The last time you pulled that one in public I almost got arrested-"

"Sammy, just shut up and look out the window!"

Sam's jaw snapped shut with a click, but he looked out nevertheless.

"What am I supposed to be looking a- oh."

Right in the alley opposite the diner window was that same blue box that'd disappeared right before their eyes yesterday. And hadn't that British dude been talking about one? Come to think of it, the guy who'd barged into their room had also been British. So had those fine looking chicks.

The brothers exchanged a glance. Sam threw a few bills on the table. They rose from their seats and headed out of the diner.


The box somehow managed to look like it belonged there even while being one of the weirdest things Dean had ever seen. He circled it slowly, eying the battered wood. It didn't look like it could just disappear into thin air, but then again, not many of the things he and Sammy faced looked that out of the ordinary either.

"It's like it's trying to sidle out of my thoughts, even though it's right in front of me," Sam said in that this-is-a-puzzle-and-I'm-going-to-solve-it tone.

"Now that you mention it..."

It really was like it was trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Though how a box was giving that impression was anybody's guess.

"Hey Sam, maybe it's Somebody Else's Problem," Dean smirked. Sam just looked confused. Dean rolled his eyes. And Sammy always mocked him for not reading a lot.

Whatever retort Sam was going to give was cut off when Dean motioned him to be silent. Slipping into hunter mode, they ducked behind the box. From the mouth of the alley, they could hear two people approaching.

"I'm just glad we weren't zapped into the past. Again," it was a woman's voice. Dean recognized it from the video. Martha, wasn't it? The last word had that same accusing tone in the video.

"Right, but we were prepared this time! Though I do wonder how they managed to get stuck like that."

"Yeah, I thought the angels were smarter than that. I can't believe they fell for that again."

Dean exchanged a look with Sam. They eased their guns out.

"Well, as long as that's over with. Now, Martha Jones - are you ready to try your hand at solar sailing? Icarus Prime has some wonderful - oh, hello," the last was said congenially enough to Dean, who was pointing a gun at the video guy's head. But his eyes were wary and cold as he stared at Dean. His posture wasn't what you could expect from someone with a gun trained on him. His stance was relaxed and his hands were in his pockets, like he was still strolling towards his box.

"Doctor..." Martha didn't look quite as scared as she should be with Sam's gun pointed at her head. If they hadn't been the ones holding the guns, Dean would have smirked at her. Sadly, this was not the time to think with his other brain, as Sam would have put it.

"Relax," Dean snapped, nerves stretched a bit thin from all the strangeness. The pair in front of him didn't look a day older than they had in the video, though by their own admission, it'd been made in 1969. Dean was really starting to dislike time-travel.

"Dean," Sam chided. To the pair in front, he said, "We're not going to hurt you," the unless we have cause to went unsaid, "We just want some answers."

"Funnily enough, so do I," the Doctor glared at them, "the first being, why are there guns pointed at our heads?"

"Just making sure you won't do anything stupid."

"Like shooting someone?"

Okay, so the guy wasn't fond of guns. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Like making that box thing disappear again, you with it."

The Doctor's stare was as unnerving as Castiel's. It had that same I-can-smite-you-with-a-thought intensity.

"Are we in the wrong order? Again?" Marta's tone was indignant. Dean watched in bemusement as her stance shifted to face the Doctor.

"Not the time, Martha!! Besides, something already took care of those angels. I think this is about something else."

"Those angels - they wouldn't be made out of stone. And weeping?" Sam piped up.

"Or doing a freaky claw your eyes out sort of thing when you're not looking?" Dean butted in.

"You're the ones who trapped them?" The Doctor sounded reluctantly impressed. Like they were the last people he'd expect to do something like that. Dean felt a little insulted.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

All the tension seemed to seep out of the Doctor. He shot an amused sideways glance at Sam.

"They can't move when they're being watched. You tricked them into looking at each other."

That was a relief.

"What if someone moves them?"

"Oh, simple enough to fix," the Doctor grew animated and cheerful, "Just a bit of molecular de-cohesion and that stone's about as useful as rubble. And now I'm afraid we must be off. Away from firearms pointed at our heads."

Caught off-guard, the brothers hesitated long enough to allow the two of them to duck inside the blue box. With a loud grating and wheezing like before, the box disappeared.



The Doctor poked his head out into the alley. He spied the Winchesters staring futilely at his just disappeared TARDIS.

"Told you I had the correct year, Amy! It was the date I got wrong!" he yelled back over his shoulder, enjoying seeing the Winchesters jump at the sound of his voice. Just a tiny bit though. He figured he'd earned it the amount of times they'd tried to shoot him.

Pointedly ignoring their surprised expressions, the Doctor got out of the TARDIS, briskly clapping his hands together once.

"So, what's this I hear about the Apocalypse?"


The End

You have reached the end of "Out of Order". This story is complete.

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