He awoke curled up on the couch, the television still on. What it was showing, he didn’t even care anymore but the sounds of someone on the little box was the first thing he became aware of, the second being how chilly it was.

It took another hour of laying there in complete silence before he tried to even sit up. With a yawn and a stretch he glanced over to the bed to find it no different then when he’d walked in the day before. Still made up.

Dean is coming back.

Taking a moment to check his cell phone he found no messages, no missed calls and that it was already tomorrow. Early tomorrow but still not the day Dean had left. The simmering pit of unease that was his stomach made itself known again and he just ignored the notion of eating for now. It probably wouldn’t stay down.

Turning the television off, given that he wasn’t exactly watching it, he managed to find something to clear up the smashed bottle with. Collecting up the glass pieces he threw them away easily enough but continued to ignore the beer stain on the wall. Let someone else deal with that.

The rest of the morning continued in silence with the half-Angel alternating between staring at the motel room door and drifting around the room somewhat aimlessly. He was supposed to be resting but just sitting down all the time kept making him agitated, antsy. He felt a need to be active, productive. Do something just to keep his mind from wandering into dangerous territory.

Dean is coming back. He’s going to be fine. Nothing’s going to go wrong.

His stomach wasn’t settling. Apparently he didn’t believe himself.

Well let’s catch you up to speed. 

Everyong left the TARDIS. Jack lost his memory, so he doesn’t count, but everyone left the Doctor so well.

He didn’t take it well. Attempted Moffat-esque suicide, jumps off a building ends up hospitalized and blind. Realizing his mistake, he’s gonna take his bald ass and try and make up for things.

Jack makes a deal with a Grey-Face and is no longer Time Lord, but he and the Doctor are engaged again. 

Dean has a different sort of encounter, along with Cas– Cas was turned into a four year old and is now dealing with the consequences of that. Dean however, had his memory wiped! He doesn’t remember anything about the TARDIS crew or the time he spent there.

But an anon attack left Dean wounded badly, and unable to return home. Somehow though, the Doctor, in a better condition than his current state got Dean home and patched up and *gasp* even drove Baby. But what’s going on?

What even is this clusterfuck?

thetenthdoctah replied to your post: He’s not sure when he is, or where he is actually,…

He opens his mouth to speak, but Sam jumps to the gun first and his jaw snaps shut, and he roots himself to the spot. “What? S… Um.” his eyes narrow and his brow furrows. “um. Uh. C’mon, Doctor think… The airspeed velocity of am unladen swallow is 28 kph with prime wind conditions? I dunno, what do you want to know, mate?”

Well that was the last thing Sam expected to hear from the man’s mouth.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, stance still tense and unsure. “Something about myself. Something about you. Or both.” He was still desperate for information, any sort of thing that would remind him of his old life and all the things his brain was desperately blocking out and away.

It couldn’t be that bad, right?

In the Kitchen

The Master hadn’t gone home yet, and was checking that everyone was all right. He and his ‘assistant,’ who he refused to refer to by name because he was getting a little bit too fond of her for multiple reasons, one being the fact that she willingly did almost everything he said without question. Anyway, they were the only two that were relatively healthy apart from the kids. After checking in on said kids, he’d made up a meal for everyone that wanted something to eat. The Zuurimian still seemed upset by the loss of her friends and went up to the balcony room, both because of the one that died and because the other three had opted to go home. A part of him wondered why she refused to go while the rest of him considered how she would fare on Earth in the estate. She had a mostly Human face, but there were cat like elements to her. Not to mention she was several inches taller than anyone on board.

A sigh escaped him and he made up a batch of pancakes. There was a can of pumpkin in the cupboard, and while he’d prefer to use real pumpkin, this wasn’t a poor substitute for the moment he supposed. The Time Lord also made a cream cheese drizzle of sorts to put on top of the pancakes. There was enough for several people, but which of them would find themselves both hungry and well enough to eat was another question.


Nobody else was around as Castiel approached the Zero room. The cameras were watching inside, relaying the footage externally. The half-Angel’d been in there before, he knew the amazing influence of being contained within those four walls. He knew how it could cut through Heaven’s influence and leave you feeling fresh and clear. 

So when he’d seen Dean’s prone body, passed out on the floor, Castiel knew what he had to do. It took a few moments of convincing himself that his assumption was right before he could open the door which he pulled open and immediately blocked with his body before looking inside.

The Doctor would be pissed when he found out. No doubt that Dean would probably hate him, but he would take it. He would accept their anger without question, without dispute. He would deserve it but he couldn’t just leave it.

Because he couldn’t let Dean die.

He couldn’t.

           It's d-a-r-k

                                      It’s cold

                                                                                              It’s l o n e l y

                        And he knows it’s not going to change.

This is his life now, however much of it he had left now.

                                    No way was Dean going to allow Mary near him now.

No way was Dean going to leave her.

                       He might as well stay here in the BLACK

in the d-a-r-k

                                                                                                on his own

There’s nothing to hang on to anymore

                                             Why can’t he remember Mary?

Cas woke up feeling queasy again. Something that had been happening increasingly lately but he just pushed it away. It was probably the odd sleeping hours or extra exercise he was getting lately. Still as he entered the kitchen he glanced over the food in the cupboards before closing them and moving into the living room. He guessed he just wasn’t hungry.

Like Father, Like Daughter

Mary was upset, crying a storm and Cas was cradling her, pacing round the living room. She had managed to get into the habit of kicking up a fuss at the most awkward of times. Often just as him or Dean had gotten off to sleep so they either had to wake up or get the other to sort her.

He’d been trying to settle her for nearly an hour before he outright asked her what the problem was, which of course she didn’t answer to. Still he figured it was worth a try.

It was still dark outside and the heating had turned off a while back so he was struggling to hold the little girl without shivering intently. He really ought to go grab himself a sweater or something but he was too tired to go upstairs for it.

Dammit. He’s getting lazy. Looking down at Mary it suddenly occurs to him that she might be a bit chilly as well, although she’s wrapped up in a blanket. Taking a breath and sighing out, Cas thanked whoever might be listening that he had a built in blanket of sorts, the thought making him smile.

Gently, he shushed Mary as he unfurled his wings, bringing them round his shoulders  and cradling them around his arms that were held around her. And oddly enough she stopped shuffling in his hold, going silent and staring up at him.

“Finally,” he muttered under his breath, sighing at the warmth his wings granted him and wrapping them around slightly as they came up beside her and mostly blocked the light from the room out. Mary’s small curious eyes seemed to track the small motion and Cas furrowed his brow. Was she….?

Cas lowered his wings gently and raised them up again and smiled as he saw her eyes follow the movement.

“I guess you like these great monsters too  huh?” he muttered it quietly, not wanting to disturb her now that she appeared settled.He lifted them up higher, thinking that maybe she might like the darkness and as he did some of his feathers brushed gently against the top of her head and she shifted letting out a delighted squawk.

“Oh you like that do you?” He moved the wing so it brushed against her again and again relishing in the giggles and happy noises she made. After a while he stopped and both Cas and Mary felt better for the little unusual game they had just shared.

“You are a very exhausting little person you know." Carefully sitting on the couch, Cas lifted his legs and shifted his daughter so he could support her better while his legs were raised. "But we both love you however much sleep you might cost us.”

Slowly Mary began to settle properly, her wide eyes shuttering closed and Cas raised his wings again, wrapping them tightly around her, not blocking her out but keeping her safe and supporting her against him.

Not long after, Cas too drifted off happily holding his little girl, safe and secure in his arms.

First Contact

It hadn’t been easy but Dean and Cas had managed to fall asleep in the smaller guest room bed. Neither of them were that big on extended sleep periods lately but Mary was beautiful and worthy of every moment of struggle.

He didn’t know what time it was when he was roused by Mary fussing but with a glance at Dean it was clear the hunter wouldn’t get up for it and besides, he’d been through a lot lately. Let him rest.

Picking her up, he carried her through into the living room, gently bouncing and muttering reassurances to her. She’d only end up cranky if she didn’t get back to sleep.

After about twenty minutes she’d dozed off again and he carefully returned her to the crib, pausing a moment to gaze lovingly down at her. This was his child. His and Dean’s. Her existence may have been a shock to them, may have been shocking and upsetting and life-altering but there was no way he would dare to regret this. She was perfect.

Then suddenly-


Keep reading

I wish to set the record straight

Of course I care about the welfare of all of the TARDIS residents. They are my family and I would do anything to keep any one of them safe.

My EXACT words for Dean would be strong-willed, powerful, brilliant and off-limits.

As for helping innocent girls…I doubt any would ask my help

And Dean I was attacked by a greyface.


Hopefully I never have to avoid the truth like that again.

Lamenting Angel

Cas’s wings are eventually drawn out, by unwanted revistation to memories with Lakita, taking him somewhat by surprise. Since when had he become able to make them visible? He couldn’t remember

He curls one tightly round his side the feathers brushing against his body, while the other is just left squashed awkwardly between his back and the wall.

Within the confines of the wing, Cas brushes his fingers absently against one of the feathers in there before gripping it gently, tugging at it. He has no life. He can’t see his family without possibly tearing it apart. He’s a prisoner in a room that he may well live in on his own for the rest of his existence. He has no memories worth holding on to. He tugs harder wincing slightly as he pulls the feather out.

Silently he wishes he could go to sleep again.

thetenthdoctah asked:

He's not sure when he is, or where he is actually, but he's got something to discuss with Dean-- but as he enters the room, he's faced with the other of the two, the youngest Winchester. "Oh. Hi... Sam" the Time Lord smiles, though a bit nervously. He's not sure how soon he should be talking to the other, but... well. This would be hard to explain anyways. "Didn't know you'd be here"

Sam jumped up, holding his arms out defensively. Everything had been too much for Sam to handle as of late, and a new face who seemed to know him already made Sam want to throw up. “Don’t move,” he managed, staring at the Doctor with a worried expression on his face. “Not until you tell me something I can use.”

It was cold. It was so cold. He couldn’t see, all he could feel was chains.

And then there was another pair of eyes– young eyes, so young, and yet… so haunted. Sam nearly wept for those eyes, but he couldn’t reach out to feel the face they belonged to. His voice wasn’t working– caught in his throat. Or gone, maybe gone.

He couldn’t remember who he was or what he was doing there– only the fire that suddenly caught his skin and split him apart.

Suddenly– he could find his voice. And he screamed.


Sam shot up to a sitting position, drenched in a cold sweat with Dean’s name still at his lips. He wasn’t sure if he’d called the man’s name out or not… but Lindsay and her parents weren’t scrambling into his room, so he assumed that he was alright.

His entire body was shaking with minute tremors, and he scrubbed a hand down his face, his throat working against the scratching, dry sensation in the back of it. Sam’s mind wandered to the business card Dean had left him before he walked out of the house, and he groped around in the dark for it before turning his bedside lamp on.

Sam’s eyes caught the newly-finished painting of the brown-haired girl in the black jacket, and he frowned. Sam Winchester was his name, apparently. And he had a brother.

“Just, call me if you…well, if you change your mind. That card may be bogus but the number on it isn’t.”

What time was it? It didn’t matter, he supposed, as he reached for the phone, tremors slowly calming.