Who Sows the Wind versus the Storm Reaper

.1. Two Worlds Collide in Summit Creek,
Colorado

“Well?”

“I haven‟t seen anything.”

“It had to go your way.”

“Well, it didn’t!”

Exasperated sigh.

“Have you checked the barn?”

“It didn‟t go to the barn.”

“Did you check it?”

“...No... I didn‟t... but...”

A metallic click.

“Yeah, a swell job, dude!”

A large wooden door opened slowly, with terrifying creak, inviting pale
moonlight into a dusty old barn. A torch beam cut through the darkness,

almost immediately followed by another band of light. Dust particles
swirled in the blaze as beams searched the gloomy, abandoned farm

building.

“There‟s nothing; there‟s just hay.” One of the torch beams swivelled,
finding in the darkness a face of a young man, now screwing his eyes in a

pool of bright light. “What are we doing here, Dean?”

“Point that down, will you?”

With some hesitation the light slid towards the floor.

“Look, Dean, all there‟s here is some junk, some hay and a lot of spider
webs. There‟s no sulphur, temp is steady and EMF shows jack. It‟s just an

old barn in the middle of nowhere. We‟re supposed to be someplace else.
Meeting with Bobby.”

“C‟mon, Sammy, you‟ve heard that as well.” Another light beam
zigzagged through the dusty barn, for a brief second catching another

young face, with prominent jaw, wide forehead and narrowed, dark eyes.
“Sort of coughy whinnying? Like it‟s wounded? Or upset?”

“Yeah, I‟ve heard it and it could‟ve been anything, some machine, an old

engine maybe. They have some lumber-mills nearby; it could‟ve been a
saw.”

“I know the sound of a saw. It was different. It was ghostly.”

“Sure, a coughy whinnying... Oh, there‟s nothing, Dean, and I‟m out of
here...”

“Wait!” The torch beam tripped over something at the very far end of the
barn, nearby a loft gate, opening to the fields. “What‟s that?”

A second beam joined the first one and they quickly travelled along the

sides of a big, bulky shape, revealing wooden walls painted blue, a double
winged door with square, opaque windows, a pale sign on the top.

“A „Police call box‟? Whatahell is that, Sammy?”

“I‟ve no idea. Some antique, I suppose. Well, it looks old... Dean, where
are you...?”

“I want to take a closer look, ok?”

“It‟s a box... Dean... It‟s a musty old wooden box... and we should be
meeting Bo...”

The blue box‟s door opened suddenly with a squeak, letting out a

generous wave of brilliantly orange light. A skinny man in a suit stepped
out from within, into the barn, walking backwards and talking to

somebody as he walked:

“I still think we should investigate it, Donna. There‟s a reason the TARDIS
brought us here.”

“Right, as if she was never lost before,” answered another voice from
inside the box.

Two light beams disappeared in split second, as two young men switched
off their torches and dived behind a heap of hay and behind a rusty

skeleton of a tractor.

“Honestly, Doctor, what are we even doing here?” A red-haired woman
wearing a white, knee long trousers, sea blue top and a pair of flip-flops

joined the skinny man in the suit. “Every time we‟re supposed to go to
the beach we land inside something like that. I mean, it‟s a barn, it‟s a

farm, it‟s a bloody countryside! It‟s dusty, and mouldy and full of rusting
bits of metal just waiting to give you a bad case of tetanus. I hate it when

it‟s so dark and I think I‟ve just stepped in a poo.”

“But she did bring us here,” protested the man lighting a pale, weirdly
bluish torch. “She had to have a reason.”

“Yeah... She‟s just pissed at you for all that hammering.” The woman
sneezed suddenly. “Brilliant! A hay fever!”

“Anyway, I‟ve heard something,” said the man quickly. “Think that could
be...”

“Right. Stay where you are!”

The woman uttered a shrill shout. Brilliant stream of light pinned the man

in the suit into the spot. He blinked behind his rectangular, heavy rimmed
glasses.

“What?”

“Just keep your hands where I can see them.”

“What??”

“What are you doing here?” There was a click of a sawn-off shotgun being

reloaded and another stream of light crisscrossed with the first one.

“What???” repeated the skinny man in the suit incredulously.

“Who are you?” asked the taller of two indistinct shapes hiding in the

shadows.

“Yeah, and why were you Houdining yourselves in that box?” added the
other. “It seems a bit small for two, unless you‟re into kinky.”

The woman squeaked again, this time with more indignation than fear.

“Don‟t. Point. That. At. Me!” she said. “Put that down or I‟ll shove it up
your...”

“Donna, no!”

“...arse!”

“DonNA!”

“Stay where you are, you hell bitch! And you too!”

“O!”

“Dean, they‟re no demons.”

“Did you just call me a bitch?!”

“Yeah, I did.”

“You bloody pri...”

“DONNA!”

The skinny man in a suit raised both hands (one still clutching the weird
blue torch) and waved them desperately.

“EVERYONE, SHUT UP! JUST... SHUT IT!” he bellowed. “QUIET! NOW!”

Some dog started barking in the distance.

“You‟re people?” asked the taller shadow after a while.

“Well, not exac...”

“Yes!” The woman cut into the skinny man‟s words. “Who did you think

we were? Bloody ghosts?”

“Erm... well... yeah...”

“Dean!”

“Well, what?”

“Dean, stop pointing at them. They‟re people.”

“I can see they‟re people.”

“We should just leave them. We scared shit out of them as it is already.”

“It‟s their fault for making out in that antiquey wardrobe, Sam. What‟s a

„Police call box‟ anyway?”

“A telephone box from the fifties. You could call the police from it. Or it

could be a holdback cell for an arrestee,” explained the skinny man.
“Now, would you put your guns away? It‟s a wee bit distracting.”

“We weren‟t making out,” said the woman. “And it‟s not a wardrobe.”

“It seems a bit too intimate for anything else,” laughed the shadow called
Dean.

“Well, it‟s bigger on the inside!”

“DONNA!”

“Oh.” The taller shape, named Sam, lowered his shotgun and came closer
to the police box. “So what are you two doing here? And who are you?”

“I‟m the Doctor and she‟s Donna,” said the skinny man. “You?”

“I‟m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean.”

“Yeah, tell them who we are. Give them our insurance numbers as well.”
The lower shadow approached the blue box, gun still at the ready. They

all got into the circle of orange light and for the first time they had a
chance to clearly see each other‟s faces. The woman gasped quietly at the

sight of regular features, huge eyes and kissable lips of Dean Winchester.

“And what are you doing here?” asked the man called the Doctor. He took

off his glasses, folded them and stuffed into his pocket. “Middle of
nowhere, middle of the night, armed? You‟re at war or something? „cause

you don‟t exactly look the time bracket. I mean, your clothes... It‟s
America, right?”

“What the hell?” said Dean looking at him questioningly. “Say, lady, was

your friends tripping on acid recently?”

“Eurrghh...” gurgled the redhead called Donna.

“We‟re... we‟re the US marshals,” explained the taller brother, Sam. “We

thought you were...”

“Escaped prisoners,” provided Dean.

“Escaped prisoners, yeah,” finished Sam.

“No, we‟re not,” said the Doctor firmly. “We‟re just... travellers... We just
travel.”

For a moment all four of them looked at each other with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, right!” / “That‟s crap, man.” / “Complete bollocks.” / “Sure as

hell!” they said in unison. Guns‟ barrels went up, so did the blue glow
stick (as it didn‟t resemble any normal torch after all).

“Just who the hell are you?” asked Sam, the butt of his shotgun pressed
firmly to his shoulder.

“Put that down, will you?” said the Doctor.

“Or what?” asked Dean, pointing his sawn-off at him.

“Oh, nothing. I just don‟t like guns,” answered the Doctor with a shrug.
“You should have a banana instead. Everybody should have a banana.

Bananas are good. Real ice-breakers.”

“Eurghh...” added Donna, staring at Dean.

“It‟s just...” Dean shook his head, reaching to the inside pocket of his

jacket. “It‟s just all kinds of stupid!”

“Yeah, completely bonkers,” agreed the Doctor. “With the guns, and the
pointing, and the questioning... We‟re going nowhere, fast. Couldn‟t we

just talk? We could...”

He blinked quickly, as cold water splashed into his eyes.

“Oi!”

“Nope, no demons.” Dean corked the metal flask and put it back inside his
jacket.

“What didya do that for?” asked the Doctor with indignation, wiping his

face.

“Wanted to make sure,” answered Dean.

“That we‟re no demons?”

“Yeah.”

“And how would splashing water in my face help you make sure?”

“It‟s holy water.”

“Ah.” The Doctor raised his chin and gave Dean a long, quizzical look.
“Right. We‟ll be gone, then. Nice to meet you. Ta.”

He grabbed Donna‟s hand and pulled her towards the box.

“Gone where?” asked Sam. “Back inside your box?”

“Back on the temporal orbit,” said the Doctor.

“Temporal whatsit?”

“Orbit.”

“As in orbit – orbit? As in space?”

“And time.”

“Space and time?”

“Demons and holy water?” mocked the Doctor, still pulling Donna along.

“No, wait, can I have your mobile number?” said Donna to Dean. All three
men turned towards her, completely speechless. “Just in case,” added

Donna.

“In case of what?” they chorused.

“Well, you‟re apparently investigating something,” said Donna in a tiny

voice, covering for her last attempt at wooing Dean. “So are we. Then,
just in case we‟re investigating exactly the same thing. Which, I have no

idea what it is, except that it sort of coughs and whines.”

For a moment there was complete silence. Even the distant barking
subsided for a while.

“I‟ll be damned!” said Dean finally.

“Wait,” Sam raised a hand. “Wait a moment, you‟ve heard that too?”

“Loud and clear,” answered the Doctor. “Actually, at first we‟ve noticed

other signs. There were some unusual weather patterns in the area;
temperature inversion, and whirlwinds forming out of nowhere, static

electricity just sparkling, and transdimensional particle pathways simply
piercing the fabric of reality. And piercing the fabric of reality – never a

good sign. Plus the TARDIS sort of slam-banged us here.”

“And you think it was...?” cautiously asked Sam.

“Ooooh...” The Doctor rolled his eyes, opened his mouth and touched the

tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Something... I dunno...
something dangerous?”

“Right, very,” barked Dean. “Look, I don‟t want to be rude, but there‟s no

room for civilians here, so skedaddle. Just go. Shoo.”

“Civilians? Because you are...?” Donna raised her eyebrows, voice

piercing dangerously.

“We‟re hunters,” said Dean. “We deal with this stuff professionally. It‟s
our job to kick ass.”

“Hunting what exactly?” The Doctor furrowed his brow.

“Spirits. Ghosts. Demons. Werewolves. Vampires. Shapeshifters.

Monsters. Occasional god.”

“Rrrright!” said the Doctor. He half turned towards Donna. “They‟re

hunting ghosts and demons with guns and attitude. Shouldn‟t be too
difficult considering ghosts and demons don‟t exist.”

“Would be nice, wouldn‟t it?” Sam laughed bitterly. “If they didn‟t exist?”

“Because they don‟t,” snapped the Doctor.

“The whole bloody world is sliding into damnation and hell fire,” said Dean
even more bitterly. “Sixty six damned seals are being broken one by one;

there are damned angels and demons playing their little game of
backgammon here, on Earth; both parties are doing their best to screw us

beyond recognition; and you‟re telling me there‟s no such thing as ghosts
and demons? I‟ve been to hell, man. Hell‟s real as... well, hell. All the
things your mommy told you were not under your bed are under your

bed. It‟s just you‟re too blind to see.”

“Yeah, thanks, Dean, for making us sound completely mental.” Sam
shrugged his shoulders. “But he‟s right,” he added. “The things we‟ve

seen...”

“There are monsters, ok,” said the Doctor quickly. “But they‟re neither

ghosts nor demons.”

“What are they, then?” asked Dean, narrow smile on his face.

“Aliens, usually. Or machines. Or just people.”

“Aliens? Did he just say aliens, Sammy?”

“He sure did.”

“Rrright!”

“Oh, so you believe in ghosts, but not in aliens?” snapped Donna. “How
come?”

“I‟ve seen ghosts. I‟ve never seen aliens,” answered Dean.

“I‟ve never seen an ostrich farm,” said Donna quickly. “But I know they
exist.”

Sam and the Doctor opened their mouths to join the spinning circle of a

quarrel, when something broke into their conversation. A harsh coughy
whine bore itself into everybody‟s ears, making them cuddle together,

little hairs at the back of their necks raised. The sound continued for a
good while, first low, then high pitched, hurting somewhere inside their

brains. Silence fell, eventually, pretty disturbing now, after that
demonstration of unexplainable presence.

“Doctor...” whispered Donna.

“Dean...” whispered Sam.

And they were running in opposite directions; the Winchesters towards

the barn‟s gate, the Doctor and Donna towards the TARDIS. All of them
suddenly seemed to be in a real hurry. They didn‟t even say goodbye.

.2. The First Sign of Dangerous Liaisons

“Well, wasn‟t that wizard?”

“What?”

“Those lads. The Winchesters. I mean – Dean? Isn‟t he a dish?” Donna

exhaled quickly, rolling her eyes. For a moment the Doctor seemed a bit
perturbed.

“Donna, they... they are ghost hunting.

“So?”

“They‟re hunting ghosts!”

“So?”

The Doctor gave an exasperated sigh.

“There are no such things as ghosts. Ghosts don‟t exist. I mean, in my
nine hundred plus years I‟ve never met a ghost.”

“And that settles it?” Donna shrugged her shoulders. “I bet there‟s plenty

other things you‟ve never met.”

“Not so many.” The Doctor‟s voice was barely audible.

“Have you ever thought that maybe you can‟t see them because you are

an unbeliever?”

“It... It has... It has nothing to do with my beliefs, Donna. Ghosts aren‟t
real. They‟re not!”

“Don‟t you believe in afterlife?”

“I believe... I believe... I dunno... I think afterlife may be possible... in
one form or the other... I just don‟t believe in evil spirits haunting the

living. Sorry, but I don‟t. Why would they be doing that, anyway? If they
even existed?”

“Yeah.” Donna tilted her head quizzically. “You probably believe that we
are just atoms. Just a space dust.”

The Doctor looked down, at his feet.

.3. Coming Together So Nicely

Dean squeezed behind the table and sighed deeply reaching for the
menu. Sam looked at him distractedly from above his opened laptop.

“What‟s good?” asked Dean.

“Don‟t know. Coffee‟s reasonable.”

“Right; a day‟s special it is.” Dean turned in his seat to read a menu
displayed on a blackboard above the bar. “Sausage surprise? No surprises
for breakfast, no. What‟s a pig in a poke?”

Sam immediately shrugged into full awareness.

“You‟re joking, right?”

“Sure I am.” Dean laughed and reached across the table to punch his
brother on a shoulder. “So, what have you found?”

Sam sighed and turned his laptop, revealing multiple open windows, all of

them displaying deeply disturbing images. Among others there was a
picture of a great fire, a picture of a comet over a small village, a skeleton

with a scythe and a bloodied body covered in wounds.

“Not much lore on the subject,” said Sam. “Two people died so far. Third

one survived the fall, but is still in coma.”

“A fall?”

“They say he fell off a plane, same as the others. All three of them landed

in this area.” Sam clicked one of the windows, enlarging a map. “But
there‟s nothing here. Just forests, fields and a creek.”

“What‟s that?” Dean leaned closer, trying to read fine print on the map.
“Sulphur what?”

“Hot sulphur springs,” said Sam. He looked around and shrugged. “Listen,

we should be leaving. Bobby has a lead on...”

“You‟re awfully eager to face the apocalypse out of a sudden,” grumbled
Dean.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Just... you real trigger happy this days. It‟s like you
couldn‟t wait to be forced to use these powers of yours again. Which you

shouldn‟t. Ever.”

“I‟m not trigger happy. I just... I can‟t sit and wait in some Boring Creek,
Colorado, when Lilith...”

“I‟ll be damned!” exclaimed Dean suddenly. “It‟s them!”

“Wha...?”

“It‟s them; it‟s the Doctor and his British chick!”

“Where?”

Sam followed his brother‟s gaze and looked out through the dusty

dinner‟s window. The skinny man in the suit was galloping through the
street, weirdly looking device in his outstretched hand. It looked as if the

device was pulling him forward. The man had a comical expression of
concentration on his face – one eyebrow wrinkled, one high on his

forehead, eyes wide and wild, hair in complete disarray. The redhead was
following her companion with much more grace and dignity. Her white
pants lost some of their crispy freshness; she had a big grass stain on her

butt and another on the right knee.

“C‟mon!” Dean was already at the dinner‟s door. “Sam!”

“What? Where? What for?” Sammy looked at his laptop. “And what am I
supposed to...”

Dean was already gone.

“Great!”

He caught up with Dean two blocks down the street. With his nose

pressed to almost opaque glass, Dean was peeking inside a desolate
cinema theatre.

“What are they doing there?” asked Sam.

“It‟s a detector of some sort,” answered Dean, his nose still flat against
the window. “This device of his. It looks as if he‟s searching for

something.”

“Yeah, he‟s searching for aliens.” Sam adjusted the weight of the laptop
under his arm. “Dean...”

“Shit!”

“What?”

“There‟s a spook!”

“What, there?”

“D‟you have your gun?”

“No. And my shotgun is in a trunk. I have the knife, though.”

“Shit, Sammy!”

“What?! I was just having my breakfast!”

There was a frightening coughy whine coming from the theatre‟s lobby.
This, as well as the redhead‟s shriek, caused both of the Winchesters to

jump towards the door. Just as Dean reached for the knob, a heavy wing
burst open. The woman collided with Dean at full speed, grabbed him with
all her strength and didn‟t let go even when both of them were already on

the sidewalk.

“Jeeesus!” whispered Dean, all the air squeezed out of his lungs. “Watch
where you going, will you!”

“There‟s... there‟s something there!” yelled Donna. “It has the Doctor!”

She put her hands on Dean‟s shoulders and shook him violently.

“It grabbed him and dragged him away!”

“Get off me!”

“What?”

“Get the fuck off me!”

“O!”

With visible dismay Donna got to her feet, in the process landing a knee
in a pretty fragile part of man‟s anatomy. She dusted her pants and top.

“There‟s no bloody reason to swear,” she said.

“The hell there isn‟t! You‟re dangerous, woman!” Dean stood up, still bent
in half, elbows pressed tightly to his sides. “Did you see it?”

“Did you see the ghost?” added Sam, for sheer purpose of participating in
conversation.

“I‟ve seen something,” answered Donna cautiously. “Not sure it was a
ghost. Anyway, whatever it may be, it has the Doctor.”

“No it hasn‟t” The Doctor stepped outside the theatre, squinting in bright

sunlight. “I‟ve tried to sonic it and then it was gone.”

“How did you even know it was going to be here?” asked Sam. “I‟ve been
trying to locate it all morning...”

“Weeell, I‟ve just gathered some information on anomalies in the region,
then sort of... triangulated them... it‟s a bit difficult to explain... Then we

came to this little town, and then I used the analyser to discern certain
electromagnetic frequencies and biological traits of the creature. And that
led me here.”

“Biological?” interfered Dean. “It‟s a bloody spook.”

“Yes, well, it isn‟t,” said the Doctor. “Although I must say it baffles me a

little. The way it vanished... I didn‟t find any energy transfer residue, not
even an energy signature. It‟s as if it vanished into thin air.”

“Well spooks will do that,” snorted Dean.

“Let me check it,” said Sam. He hesitated for a moment, looked at his
brother, pain written clearly on his pale face, then handed the laptop to

Donna. “Here, can you hold it?”

He entered the theatre‟s lobby, straining his eyes in the semidarkness of
the room. He switched on an EMF reader and listened to its sharp trills.
Red lights flashed on the device‟s screen.

“We have readings, ok!” he yelled towards the door.

“There‟s a relay station just round the corner,” said the Doctor from

behind his back. “Wouldn‟t that scramble your readings?”

“Yeah, it would.” Sam sighed and switched off the EMF. “Damn!”

“You two seem to be pretty eager to catch this... ghost,” the Doctor

noticed.

“Two people have died already so, well, yeah, I‟d like to catch the son of a

bitch as soon as possible.”

“Wait a minute, people have died? You think this creature have killed
them? How?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders.

“They were... well, kinda... mashed... The official version is that they‟ve
fallen off passing planes. So when they‟ve finally hit the ground... You can

imagine....”

“No, I‟d rather not.” The Doctor grimaced. “And you think your... ghost is
responsible for their deaths?”

“Yes.”

“Look, in all my life, and we‟re talking almost a thousand years, I haven‟t
seen a ghost,” said the Doctor. “On the other hand I‟ve never seen such

readings. It is almost as if the creature was out of tune with your reality;
as if it was in a state of constant dimensional flux. Still, it can affect your
world. Have you seen those little whirlwinds on the street?”

“Almost a thousand years?” Sam knitted his eyebrows.

“Well, yes. 905 to be precise. So, have you seen them?”

“You‟re 905 years old?”

“Yes, I am. The whirlwinds...?”

“Are you human?”

“No, I am not!” There was impatience in the Doctor‟s voice. “Humans do

not live that long. Can we focus?”

“What are you?”

“I‟m a Time Lord.” Sam‟s blank expression ensured the Doctor that some
more explanation was needed. “I‟m from a planet called Gallifrey. I travel
through time and space. I‟m a genius as well. Can we focus now?”

“I‟m outa here,” Sam turned on his heel and marched towards the door.

“Hey, wait!” The Doctor rushed behind him. “Listen, I really don‟t have
time for this. I just need some information, which you guys have. I don‟t
care if you‟re complete bonkers, believing in ghosts and demons, but we
could...”

Sam stopped suddenly and turned towards him. He looked angry. The

Doctor noticed suddenly how tall the young man was.

“Yes, I believe in demons!” Sam said. “I have reasons too. One of them
killed my mum, my dad and my girlfriend. Another one took my brother
to hell and tortured him for forty hell years! And yet another is trying to

break seals holding Lucipher in his prison! So, yes, I believe in them! Hell,

one day I may become one of them! You say you‟re not human? Well, so
am I! Not completely, anyway! How‟s that for a proof?!”

The Doctor tilted his head. After a while he reached to the inner pocket of

his suit, took out a small device, switched it on and pointed towards Sam.
The device sang quietly and shone blue light.

“What‟s that?” asked Sam angrily.

“My sonic screwdriver,” answered the Doctor inattentively, still probing
the air around Sam‟s chest and head.

“A sonic screwdriver???”

“Well, yeah. Very useful.”

“You‟re mad!”

“And you‟re right.” The Doctor looked straight into Sam‟s eyes, serious

look on his face. “Your DNA shows signs of manipulation. Oh, they‟re
incredibly minute, almost indiscernible, but they‟re real. You‟re not

entirely human, Sam Winchester.”

Sam‟s shoulders sagged suddenly.

“It‟s demon‟s blood,” he whispered. “God, I hate it!”

“Weeell, it makes you more resilient, supports your immune system,

gives you the smarts, and certainly is responsible for your height. Don‟t
see a reason you should complain about it.”

“Try turning dark side. Becoming evil. Becoming one of them.”

“We are all tempted by the dark side,” said the Doctor quietly. “You don‟t
have to have alien DNA mixed with your blood to become prone to evil.

It‟s our choices that define us.”

“Easy to say, Doctor,” Sam sighed. “You don‟t have the end of the world
on your head.”

“Several, actually.” The Doctor switched off his sonic screwdriver.
“Prevented them all. Don‟t wanna brag, but that‟s what I do. I travel and

I help if I can. Did I mention I‟m kinda clever?”

“A couple of times, yeah.”

“Well, there‟s nothing there anymore. Let‟s go back to our companions.”

“And then what?”

“Share our data?” The Doctor grinned. “Combine resources?”

“It may... not be so easy, Doctor. You must have noticed that my brother
is... well, he‟s a little... socially awkward at times,” said Sam.

“So is Donna,” the Doctor laughed. “Good that we can communicate.”

“Alien to alien,” sighed Sam.

Outside, Dean and Donna glared at each other with death rays sparkling

in both pairs of greenish eyes.

“Well, yes, we decided to combine our efforts,” said the Doctor, rubbing
his hands together. “Seeing how you‟re coming together so nicely.”

.4. The Second Sign of Dangerous Liaisons

“Well, wasn‟t it awkward?”

“What?”

“They‟re complete nutjobs. This British couple. I mean – the Doctor? What

a freak!”

“I kinda like them.” Sam rolled on his back and put both hands under his
head, staring at the motel‟s room ceiling.

“That‟s because you‟re a freak as well,” stated Dean, stuffing his face with
a double cheese beef burger with onions.

“Dumbass,” responded Sam immediately.

“An alien?” Dean wriggled his fingers slightly above his head imitating
antennas. “Like, he‟s almost 1000 years old and travels in time and space

in his wooden box? It‟s totally demented!”

“He seemed to be pretty professional, though,” sighed Sam. “Things he
could do? Dean, the guy‟s a genius. The way he triangulated this spook‟s

position? I couldn‟t do it and he didn‟t even have a computer.”

“So he‟s one of them idiot savants. You know; a Rain Man deal. How

many matches? Or rather a Beautiful Mind, freaking schizo business.”

“I don‟t know.”

“Sammy, the guy was tripping! And his chick? The red-head? I mean, how

weird was she?”

“Oh, I don‟t know. I think she has a crush on you, Dean.”

The older of the Winchester brothers choked on a bit of beef burger. He

was coughing for a moment, pointing accusatory finger at Sam.

“Don‟t even say that!” he said finally. “She‟s... she‟s... she‟s red, for god
sake! Red, Sam!”

“She seemed fierce,” admitted Sam. “And she‟s smart. She‟s funny...
She‟s not a busty Asian beauty,” he finished with dawning understanding.

“Well, she‟s not Asian,” he chuckled.

“Anyway, she didn‟t...”

“O, yeah, she did.”

“Sammy, they‟re both nutcrackers; totally! And we have worse problems.
We have an apocalypse approaching. Would you mind and focus on that?”

“Well, I would, but I‟m sort of concerned about your sex life. Dean, a

woman of your life is virtually throwing herself to your feet, and you say
„no‟?”

“She‟s not a woman of my life!”

“She looked good on you.”

“Sam!”

“Well she did.”

“Bitch!” said Dean throwing an empty wrapper at his younger brother.

“Jerk!” Sam caught the wrapper and threw it back at him. “I‟m just
saying.”

“Well, don‟t!” Dean jumped in his bed, turning to the side and pummelling

his pillow to make it softer. He was still a bit sore in the spot Donna hit
with her knee. She was as far from his ideal woman as it was possible;
normally he wouldn‟t spare her a second look. Smart and funny? Who the

hell needs that in a chick?

“I‟ll be working with the Doctor tomorrow,” said Sam to Dean‟s back.
“We‟ll see if we can triangulate the spook‟s position again.”

“I‟ll search the theatre,” grumbled Dean.

“Good. Take Donna with you.”

“Not in this life!”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Sleep tight, Dean.”

“Don‟t let bed bugs bite.”

“No visions.”

“No nightmares.”

.5. The World is a Funny Place

“So, what‟s your poison?”

Donna looked up at Dean. She seemed tired, and her clothes looked awful

– all stains and holes. She shook her hair off her shoulders.

“Dunno. A pint maybe. And something with a kick. I‟m knackered.”

He went to the bar and returned with a small tray precariously loaded
with beer mugs and shot glasses. Donna grabbed the first glass even
before the tray touched the table. She gulped the content down, pulled a

face and fought for a breath a little.

“Just what I needed,” she said a little wheezily.

Dean sat down opposite her in the dark corner of the bar. He took a swig
from his glass, then washed it down with beer. His clothes were torn and
stained as well.

“So that‟s what you usually do?” asked Donna.

“Yeah, more or less,” said Dean gloomily.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would anybody want to do that? We‟ve almost got killed. It wanted

to rip you in half. It bit you. And it wanted to strangle me. Then all the
chairs were flying in the air. And the fire? And there were those other

ghosts; god they looked horrible. You said you were hunters, you and
your brother. It means you‟re looking for trouble. Do you get paid?”

“No.”

“I thought so.”

“It‟s sort of family business,” said Dean. “Hunting things. Helping people.
Our Dad... He was a hunter. He taught us everything he knew.”

“But, look where it got you!” exclaimed Donna. “You‟ve been to hell! Your
brother turned into a freak!”

“Don‟t tell him I‟ve told you,” quickly interrupted Dean.

“Yeah, I won‟t.” Donna looked inside her beer mug, suddenly thoughtful.
“I shouldn‟t even ask you this,” she sighed. “I mean, not me.”

“It seems you are looking for trouble as well.” Dean gave her a pale

smile.

“Well, we don‟t, usually. The thing is – trouble finds us. Always. And then
there‟s running, and confusion, and the end of the world, and then off we
go, into another trouble. And he‟s always in a hurry. The Doctor. And I

don‟t even get half of what he says.”

“Yeah, tell me that. I have a real smartass for a brother.”

“And he‟s... Oh, I love him to bits, but sometimes he‟s so... alien... He
just says something, or does something, or even looks at me, and it‟s
alien... And then I feel left behind. Again.”

“How did you two hooked up?”

Donna shrugged.

“I was supposed to marry a real wanker,” she said. “Then the Doctor
happened. Lance was eaten by baby spiders. We drained the Thames.

There was this gigantic spider empress. Santas with guns. Exploding
Christmas tree decorations. Can you imagine how scary it was?”

“No, not really.” Dean gave her a look.

“See. That‟s what I mean. You can‟t even tell anybody, because it‟s so
frigging weird. It just sounds bonkers. But when you‟re there, it‟s

terrifying, and huge, and sad, and funny, and crazy and... I don‟t even
know what.”

“So you decided to be his companion?”

“No I didn‟t. Well, not at first.” Donna had another shot and a long swig of
beer before she continued. “You have this normal life, Dean, a life full of
Eastenders, and temp jobs, and packed lunches, and texts and trivia. You
meet your mates in a pub on a Friday night, and you go shopping on

Saturday. You quarrel with your mum and you wish you moved from
home, but money is always too tight and you just postpone everything

from one year to another. You‟re constantly dieting and you‟re binge
eating when diets don‟t work. You‟re not pretty, not smart, not important.

You‟re nobody. And you‟re supposed to stay this way.”

Dean was quiet.

“And then something like that happens. The end of the world. And the
sheer fact that you survived... kinda changes everything. But... it‟s still

too strange, too distant from reality. So, well, when he asked me, I said
„no.‟ I just wanted to go home and have a good cry. And he was gone.

And I was looking for him ever since.”

“Looks like you‟ve found him.”

“I have.” Donna smiled. “Haven‟t I?”

“So, what‟s changed?”

“Oh, I’ve changed. And then I‟ve changed some more. But the things I‟ve
seen! I‟ve met Agatha Christie. I‟ve been to Pompeii – volcano day! Went
to Ood Sphere! Fought Daleks! Had my head stuffed with the Doctor‟s
knowledge! I saved the world, Dean; me – Donna Noble from Chiswick,

London – saved the universe! All of them, to be precise. You just don‟t
turn back and walk away from it. You can‟t.”

“You saved the universe?” Dean gave her the look again.

“I know.” Donna chuckled. “Wizard!”

“I‟ve killed the yellow eyed demon,” said Dean. “The one that did that to
Sammy. Doesn‟t even compare.”

He grabbed another shot glass.

“Dean, from what you‟ve told me, you had been living on the frontline,
every day since you were a kid, watching over your little brother and

fighting monsters! I was a fat, stupid cow. You were a hero! You still are!
And it may be my whisky talking, but you‟re kinda cute.” Donna

hiccupped a little. “Yeah, that‟s definitely my whisky talking.”

“He doesn‟t look alien,” murmured Dean after a while.

“He has two hearts,” said Donna.

“You‟re joking!”

“No. Binary cardiovascular system. Saved his life recently.”

“What else has he two of?”

“Oi!” Donna punched Dean on the shoulder. “Watch it!”

“And how are you his „companion‟?”

“As in „travelling together‟. As in „keeping company‟. Pretty old fashioned
way of keeping company as well.”

“No intimate relations?”

“He‟s an alien, Dean. He‟s a spaceman. And I don‟t think he thinks of me

this way. Oh, bugger it, why would he?!”

“I don‟t know; „cause you‟re funny? Smart? Brave? Honest?” Dean

stopped and shook his head. “Yeah, and that‟s my whisky talking.”

Donna hiccupped again.

“He used to have this girlfriend,” she said, words a little blurry. “She was

blonde.”

“Ow!” Dean toasted her with another shot. “And where is she?”

“Different dimension. Unless another catastrophe happens, he can‟t even

see her again. And, anyway, she has somebody.”

“It‟s a drag,” said Dean. “I had this girl once, „bout eight years ago. And
she has a kid. I thought he was mine, but he wasn‟t. But, even so... you

know, she‟s hot. She‟s all sorts of hot and spicy. It‟s just with me going to
hell, and Castiel dragging me back; and then Sam screwing Ruby and

honing his Dark Lord skills; and Lilith breaking the seals... You just don‟t
have time for relationships. I would have sucked, anyway. Never stayed

anywhere long enough. Use them and loose them – that‟s Dean
Winchester.”

“You certainly look the part,” admitted Donna. “Hot and dangerous.”

“You think so?”

“Yeaaah...”

“You know, it‟s weird.” Dean pulled a face. “The way I can talk to you. I‟m
spilling my guts here and it‟s definitely a chicks‟ flick moment, but it
doesn‟t seem awkward at all.”

“Oh, pull yourself together, Dean, you big softie!” Donna laughed. “We
have some serious drinking to do here.”

“Right. Drinking.” Dean washed down another shot with a sip of beer.

“You are hot too. Your hair... It‟s awesome.”

“It‟s ginger.”

“No, it‟s... like a fire... you‟re like a fire... You‟re hell of a woman, Donna.”

“You‟re hell of a man, Dean.”

“Let‟s drink to that.”

“Let‟s.”

A few shots later, with her head resting on a table top, Donna muttered

quietly:

“World is a funny place, y‟know? A funny little world it is. I bloody love

this little world.”

That was when the angel appeared.

.6. The Flutter of Angelic Wings

Castiel looked tired, as usual. His trench coat was crumpled; so was his
face. Clear, brilliantly blue eyes were surrounded by dark circles. His hair

was messy and his shoulders were sagging. He didn‟t look like a
Messenger of God. He looked like tax accountant who just had been fired.

“Dean,” he said curtly.

“Cass,” answered Dean. “What‟s up?”

“Are you drunk?”

“Are you blind?”

“Where did he come from?” asked Donna.

“Donna, meet Castiel, the angel. Cass, meet Donna Noble.”

Castiel‟s eyes grew large as his jaw dropped. He looked at Donna with
pure horror.

“What is she doing here?”

“I‟m having a pint with Dean here, thank you,” snapped Donna. “Well,
several pints. And a couple of shots.”

“You are not supposed to be here, Donna Noble,” whispered Castiel. “I am
not supposed to be talking to you.”

“Why?”

“You put it all in danger. There is a plan. You don‟t fit in it.”

“And you‟ve just scared the shit of my angelic friend. I think I love you,”
said Dean getting up from his chair.

Castiel moved his stubborn gaze to Dean‟s face. Donna thought that the

angel was pretty short for a Messenger of God. Nevertheless, there was
strength in him, like a coiled serpent, ready to strike.

“Is he with her? The Doctor?”

“He‟s with Sam,” answered Dean. “They‟re looking for lore on this spook.
You know, the mushy bodies spook.”

“You are not to engage in it,” ordered Castiel. “Leave this case. Now.
Before it‟s too late.”

“Wait, there‟s a spook that kills people by smashing them to bits, and we

are supposed to leave it? It‟s our job, Cass. We‟re not leaving it until he‟s
dusted.”

“You are supposed to be someplace else,” said the angel sternly. “As it is
written. Their presence is causing disturbances. This man, the Doctor,

he‟s a meddler. He twists time, he bends reality. He already...”

“He already what?” asked Donna.

“You are an anomaly.” Castiel‟s gaze moved slowly towards Donna. “You
do not belong here. There was a plan for you too, but it has been altered,
and now you are causing alternations wherever you appear.”

“How do I not belong here?” shouted Donna. “It‟s my world!”

“Not anymore.”

“What?” Both Donna and Dean shook their heads in disbelief.

“Enough of that.” Castiel turned back towards Dean. It might have been
an illusion, but it seemed that the angel‟s pale lips trembled. “Dean, you

have to meet with Bobby. That‟s what you do. That‟s your story. Leave
them and go. Take Sam with you. God knows what damages have been

done already. Just pack your bags and go.”

“No.”

“Dean.” Castiel took a deep breath before he continued. “You are trouble

enough. You are stubborn and moody, and you have no idea what you
want to do with your life. Then there‟s Sam. I just... There are rules,

Dean, and I have to follow them. It seems that all I do is covering your
back. For all the things you‟ve done, all the people you‟ve saved, you are
still a sorry burden I have to drag. I thought you‟d be better at following
orders.”

“Yeah, that part of my life is sort of dead,” grumbled Dean. “You‟re not
my Daddy.”

There was a fluttering sound and a dark, wing shaped shadow appeared
for a moment behind Castiel‟s shoulders. Donna held her breath.

“Now he‟s gonna tell me, they will push me back into hell he dragged me

from,” commented Dean, completely unfazed. “It only works once, to be
honest.”

.7. The Third Sign of Dangerous Liaisons

Donna opened her eyes and for a long moment just stared. There were
little cowboys painted on a ceiling. There were little cowboys printed on

the curtains. There were saloon doors leading to the toilet. It definitely
wasn‟t the TARDIS.

Then she looked to her left and saw Dean‟s face, just an inch from hers.

She shrieked and sat up, hands full of bed sheets she desperately pulled
up to cover herself.

Dean blinked and lifted his head from the pillow. He had a bit of dribble in
a corner of his mouth. His sleepy eyes moved up and down Donna, then

they sort of expanded, as he jumped backwards, falling out of the bed.

“Jeeesus!”

“Did we...” Donna‟s throat was completely dry. “Did we... do... that?”

“I... we... I don‟t remember,” answered Dean from the floor. “Do you...?”

“I‟ve no idea. Do you have your pants on?”

“Do you?”

Very slowly Donna looked down, under the sheet.

“Oh, God!”

“What?”

“I don‟t think we did... it,” she said. “I‟m dressed... Sort of... You?”

“Eeerm... not so much. Can I have sheets?”

“Sure.” She handed him bed covers, at the same time hiding behind a
pillow. “Have you seen my top?”

“No. Have you seen my... everything?”

“I have your T-shirt.”

“Can you pass it to me?”

“You have to find my top first. Cause I can‟t find my bra.”

“Jeeesus!”

“Ok, we‟ve been both drunk. We‟ve been too drunk to do... anything. I‟ve
been so drunk I dreamed there was an angel in the bar.”

“Well, there was Castiel...” Dean‟s head emerged from behind the bed.

“After that, all seems... kind of blurry.”

“Well I hope you didn‟t like me the way I like you,” said Donna. “Because

if you did...”

“I like you, Donna. It‟s just...”

“Very awkward, I know.”

She found her top and her bra twisted together under the second pillow.

“Right, don‟t look now.”

There was a knock on the door. Donna gasped and quickly pulled her top
over her head.

“Oh my God, o my God, o my God!” she whispered.

“Donna, are you there?”

It was the Doctor‟s voice.

“O... MY... GOD!” mouthed Donna.

“Dean? Dean, wake up. What‟ve happened to everybody?”

On her tip toes Donna sneaked to the toilet, opened a small window and

wriggled through, falling hardly into high weeds outside. She circled the
motel building, stopped for a while to tidy her hair and smeared makeup,
then walked to the Dean‟s room door and knocked loudly.

“Come in.”

She entered, heart pounding. The Doctor looked at her briefly.

“Donna. Where have you been? I‟ve been looking everywhere.”

“I‟ve just... I went out...” murmured Donna, trying not to look at Dean,
who was still partially dressed, and visibly distressed.

“What happened?” Donna asked.

“We think we know who or what the ghost is,” answered the Doctor. “You
are going to like it Dean.”

He walked across the room, turned, stopped and with wrinkled brow

stared at the floor for a good while. Donna looked as well and saw her flip
flop sandal, buried in a little pile of Dean‟s clothes. She felt a hot flush

colouring her cheeks.

“Yes,” the Doctor cleared his throat. “Right then. A ghost. Can... can we

meet in the dinner in about an hour?”

“Yes. Sure,” said Dean weakly.

“Doctor, are you all right?” asked Donna.

He looked at her quizzically, head slightly tilted, brown eyes wide.

“I‟m always all right,” he answered. Which meant he really wasn‟t.

.8. Ruby in the Smoke

Everybody tried to get a good look at the screen of Sam‟s laptop
positioned on the table top between the four of them. As a result the

laptop was being moved and pushed around the table, leaving virtually no
space for their breakfasts. Therefore Dean held his plate on his lap,

quickly devouring scrambled eggs and bacon on toasts. As the Doctor
turned the laptop again, giving him a nice view of its worn casing, Dean
swallowed most of scrambled eggs and sputtered the rest asking:

“So, did you two find something or not?”

“There is some lore on unnatural disasters,” said Sam. “Floods, tornados,

fires; sometimes they appear out of nowhere, as if invoked by a spell.
Which would suggest supernatural intervention.”

“A demon?”

“Usually. Alternatively an angel.”

“An angel?” Donna repeated. She was unusually quiet that morning,

drinking her milky tea with a guilty look on her face.

“Yes, and a pissed one for that matter,” said Sam, wry little smile in the
corners of his mouth. For a moment his eyes turned cold as is reflecting

some wild stormy clouds passing overhead. He shook his head. “But this
is different. All the signs – they‟re just... far out. We‟ve investigated the

ghost in the theatre...”

“Ghosts, actually,” interrupted the Doctor. “Or beings, to be precise.”

“Anyway, nobody died there,” continued Sam. “No one. Not a single soul.

There is no data on unnatural deaths in this spot even before the theatre
was built.”

“So how...”

“There are other haunted places in the area. Some buildings, an old
cemetery – they have several mildly interfering ghosts in and nearby

Summit Creek. None of them dangerous or homicidal, though. It seems
that spooks were spooked out of their usual haunts and hid in the

theatre.”

“All of them?” asked Donna. “Is it even possible?”

“I didn‟t think it was. Spooks are sort of tied to spots where they died.
Sometimes they choose to haunt other areas, but they are not able to

leave them. They tethered to distinct locations – houses, cemeteries,
hospitals, prisons, you name them. Some of them follow specific objects –

paintings, elements of furniture, cars, toys, mirrors; things which had
been important to them at some point of their lives. They may follow such

objects to new locations, but I‟ve checked and nothing had been moved
into the theatre recently. On the contrary, it had been almost completely

emptied a few months ago.”

“But me and Dean...” Donna hesitated for a while, a quick glance towards
the Doctor. “We saw them.”

“So did we. And I actually recognised two of them. Angelina Prow.” Sam
opened the window with a photograph of a sad young woman with large

dark eyes, and turned the laptop again to show it to Donna. “And Justus
Blaine.” Old, sepia coloured photograph of a bulky man wearing old-

fashioned clothes. “Angelina used to haunt the cemetery weeping after
her husband who died in Vietnam in 1969; she was known as the Lady

with Flowers. Always with a bunch of carnations – apparently she liked
them. Justus was often seen near the creek. He was supposedly

murdered there by a business partner in early 20ties. He was haunting
the spot ever since.”

“So how could they leave their haunts?” Dean asked.

“I‟ve no idea. All I know is they are frightened and very dangerous.”

“Spooked spooks,” Dean grinned at his brother. “And they haven‟t even

recognised us yet.”

Donna‟s eyes met his eyes quickly; then they moved to the Doctor. He
didn‟t even mention that it was him the monsters were afraid of. No I’m

the Doctor/The Oncoming Storm/Look me up stuff this time. Weird.

The Winchester brothers sank into discussion about possibilities of ghostly

relocation, so Donna leaned across the table, towards the Doctor.

“You‟re quiet,” she noticed.

“Yeaaaah,” sighed the Doctor. “I am.”

“Do you think... you think they could be actual ghosts?” she whispered.

“I think they are imprints,” said the Doctor as quietly. “Do you remember

the neural relays saving the echo of the person after their death?”

“How could I forget?” It was a memory Donna wasn‟t particularly attached
to; unfortunately it had been returned to her as a part of the complete

remembrance package. “Ghosting. Talking about ice creams and shoe
laces. Bloody cruel, if you ask me.”

“Well, I was thinking...” said the Doctor and fell quiet.

“Yes?” asked Donna after a while.

“Sorry, what?”

“You were thinking...”

“I do that, don‟t I?”

“Doctor!”

“What?”

“You said they were imprints,” Donna said impatiently. “Imprints of what?
Imprints in what?”

“Imprints of emotions? I dunno, of thoughts maybe. Some sort of basic

personality engrams, slowly degrading after an original host‟s death? Who
knows? I‟m beginning to believe that some places here on Earth offer an
energetic structure capable of intercepting and sustaining such imprints...

well, not infinitely, but for a very long time. Hundreds of years, in some
cases.”

“Ghosts,” whispered Donna in awe. “You are starting to believe in

ghosts.”

“What? No! I said imprints. Shadows. Just... just like footprints left in clay

and then petrified, preserved, fossilised through the ages. They have no
consciousness of their own, they are mere reflections. They are no spirits,

no lost souls. Just footprints in clay of reality.”

“Actually, that‟s pretty close to what we call ghosts.”

Donna swivelled in her seat. She almost forgot about Sam and Dean

sitting next to them. For a moment she was there alone with the Doctor.
As she was supposed to be.

“And yet you use holy water and silver bullets to get rid of them,” the

Doctor grumbled.

“Rock salt and iron. And it‟s not so easy to get rid of them. Usually we

have to find the remains, salt them and burn them,” explained Sam.

“Salt them?” Donna raised her eyebrows. “How is spicing and barbecuing
a method of ghost disposal? Shouldn‟t you, I don‟t know, exorcise them?”

“You exorcise demons, Donna. Rock salt, iron and fire have purifying

qualities. Why do you think witches were burned at the stake?”

“Because witch hunters were bloody stupid?” she snarled.

“No, they weren‟t,” Dean pursed his lips. “Have you ever met a witch?”

“I have!” The Doctor brightened for a brief moment, just to sink into his

gloominess a while later. “She weren‟t exactly a witch. She was a
Carrionite. Looked like a witch, though. Had a cauldron and all. Tried to
kill me.”

“Been there, seen that, did not care about T-shirts,” said Dean.

“Have you ever met a Carrionite?”

“If she was one, she didn‟t tell me. Oh, Sammy, I think you should ask
your little Ruby if she used to be a Carrionite. Whatever that means.”

“I‟m not!”

Everybody jumped in their seats.

“Don‟t... do... that...” gasped Dean, turning towards slim, black-haired
woman, standing next to their table, arms folded on her chest, dark eyes

sparkling. “Clear your throat, or something. Wear a bell?”

“I hear you had a little spat with Castiel,” said the woman completely
unfazed. “Didn‟t he tell you to pack your bags and go?”

“What, now you‟re working together? Castiel and Ruby, Flutter and
Brimstone – such a nice name for a joint-venture.”

“We‟re not working together,” emphasized Ruby. “Well maybe we are, in
a way that we‟re both trying to save your sorry asses. Didn‟t Castiel tell
you not to interfere with these people?”

“You mean, with us?” asked Donna.

Ruby didn‟t even look at her. She was staring at Dean; black, deep eyes
burning with inner fire. After a while she looked at Sam and something in

her eyes shifted; maybe it was just a reflection of light in a chrome bar
railing; but Donna could swear that the fire in Ruby‟s eyes exploded with
unexpected intensity.

“This is not your business,” Ruby said slowly. “You‟re wasting your time.”

“It‟s ours to waste, thank you,” growled Dean.

“You‟re going to die!” Ruby uncrossed her arms and leaned over the table,
black hair curtaining her face. “You are dying here, both of you, stupid

jerks! That‟s what Castiel was trying to tell you!”

“How did he know?” / “All of us?” / “Sorry, but... who are you?” / “Did he

tell you that?” / “Me and the Doctor as well?” / “Who is Castiel?” / “And
how would you know?” Their voices blurred into excited ding.

“Oh, shut up!” yelled Ruby. “Shut your holes, all of you!”

And now her eyes were black; completely, absolutely black – two
dangerous fissures in the known world. She blinked and the blackness

was gone. Donna felt a shiver running down her spine.

“Who are you?” repeated the Doctor, leaning forward in his seat to get a
better look at the black haired woman. “What are you?”

“Isn‟t that just sweet?” Ruby shook her head. “With this accent you‟re
supposed to be a gentleman.”

“Was I rude again? Sorry. Didn‟t mean to... But, who...?”

“Ruby, don‟t you dare!” said Dean, harsh notes in his voice.

She just smiled without any joy.

“Don‟t worry. I‟m gone already. I don‟t stick with fools... Sam...?”

“Yes?”

“You‟re goin‟ with me?”

The younger brother blinked and turned his eyes away. There was a long
moment of hesitation before he made himself answer abruptly:

“No.”

“Fine!” She turned with a shrug. “Just don‟t come running to me for help
when your bro gets gutted. He dies first, I reckon. Slow death. Shouldn‟t

have eaten his breakfast. Makes things worse. At least you die quickly.
Still, you have to watch all of them go first. Can‟t be pleasant. But then

again, you‟ve been warned.”

“Ruby, stop it!” yelled Dean.

She swivelled on her heel, giving him a fiery look.

“I deserve to be listened to!”

“You deserve to be sent back to hell, fast track,” Dean said. His cheeks
and lips were pale, his fists were clenched. “I trusted you...”

“Poor little Dean and his trust issues,” Ruby mocked. “It‟s not about you.
Not this time. It‟s about who‟s left standing when the battle‟s over. So

don‟t give me your warrior of God attitude.”

“You bitch!”

“Back at you!”

“Dean...”

“Don‟t, Sam! Just, don‟t!”

“I think we should take a walk,” said the Doctor quietly in Donna‟s ear. He
grabbed her hand and got up quickly.

“Dean, we should listen to her...”

“Yeah, just like you‟ve been listening to her all the time I was in...”

“I was trying to get you out!”

“You were trying for Dark Arts Academy!”

“They have their problems, obviously.” The Doctor was dragging Donna

along towards the exit. “We‟ll be back when they‟ve finished.”

“Fine then, go!” shouted Ruby, top of her voice. “The four of you, just
go!”

She looked at each and every one of them in turn, speaking with spite:

“The Soldier. The Meddler. The Anomaly. And the Devil‟s Own. Go. All of
you. Go and fall into the crack. Just go away and die.”

The Doctor stopped so suddenly Donna walked into him.

“What did you just say?”

.9. What Do Spooked Spooks Fear?

“She‟s a demon?”

Donna walked towards Dean. She touched his shoulder gently.

“Is that what you‟re trying to tell me? She is a demon and she has this

horrible power over Sam? So... what, you have this close relationship with
an angel and he has one with the devil?”

“I... I wouldn‟t call it a relationship,” murmured Dean. “It‟s...
complicated.”

“Angels and demons.” Donna laughed. “Doesn‟t it sound a bit like a

current cinema programme? Dan Brown? No?”

“Look... Donna...” Dean started, but she would not let him finish.

“She knows things. This thing with us. She knows it. And she knows the

Doctor and me. It‟s just... It is too weird.”

“She‟s not hum...”

“She‟s a demon, I understand. Still... The names she gave us. You‟re the

Soldier. The Doctor‟s the Meddler. Sam‟s the Devil‟s Own. And I am...”

“The Anomaly,” finished Dean.

“The thing is – I am.” Donna bit her lower lip. “I am the Anomaly. I think

I‟ve always been. But... It‟s just so cruel. She was just cruel. Did she
want to, I dunno, scare us? Warn us? And shouldn‟t we listen to the

warning if we hear it from both sides?”

“We have a job to do.” Dean turned to her, a sawn-off in his hand. “Let‟s
just do it!”

“She said we were going to die.”

“I don‟t care.”

“I‟ve noticed.”

Donna looked towards Sam and the Doctor, setting up some weird looking

equipment on a dusty theatre‟s floor. The younger Winchester seemed
completely preoccupied with wires and duct tape, but she noticed furtive

glances he was casting at Dean. There was something going on between

the two brothers, and Donna knew it wasn‟t just brotherly love. For a
moment she felt completely out of place. She sighed.

“This is no good.”

“You‟re forgetting something,” said Dean. “People have died. It isn‟t about

angels and demons; it is not about Sam and me, or you and the Doctor.
It‟s about them.”

“Yeah, well, you‟re certainly right, but...”

“There!”

The Doctor was up and running now, a bleeping device in his hand. He

looked so... well, so normal, with his hair a mess, his black-rimmed
glasses askew and an expression of anticipation, almost a glee, on his

face. Donna laughed. The Doctor halted for a while, giving her a look.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just... carry on. What‟s that suppose to do anyway?”

“Well, it‟s basically an amplifier, pretty straightforward it is. If there‟s any

residual emotional energy in this place, it‟ll boost it, so that we‟ll be able
to see... that...”

Donna turned her gaze to where he was looking. There was a woman
standing there – a pale, dark-haired woman, a bunch of pink carnations in

her hands. Her image seemed oddly distorted, blinking in and out of
existence repeatedly, making Donna slightly dizzy just looking at her.

“Right,” said Dean, circling her slowly, rock salt loaded sawn-off at the

ready. “Angelina I presume?”

The ghost sighed and turned her face towards him.

“Help me,” she whispered. There was much pain and fear in her voice.
There was also a weird distortion to the sound, sort of a slightly unreal
quality, making Donna‟s skin tingle. She moved closer to the Doctor and

grabbed the sleeve of his coat.

“A ghost!” she yelled in a whisper. “I don‟t believe it! Real as life! I mean,

I‟ve seen them; flying chairs and all of that, but it was all sort of blurred.
But she talks! And she‟s a ghost!”

“An imprint,” the Doctor corrected.

“No, but... she‟s here! She‟s real! I can hear her! I can hear a ghost!”

“Help me,” repeated Angelina.

“You shouldn‟t be here,” said Sam. He moved towards the ghost, but
Dean stopped him with his outstretched arm. Sam gave him a slightly

irritated look. “It‟s not your place. Why did you leave the cemetery?”

“He‟s devouring us,” said Angelina. She opened her fingers, letting the
carnations fall to the floor. The flowers touched dusty planks and
dissolved immediately. “He‟s killing us.”

“Who?”

“That‟s amazing!” The Doctor pointed the device at her, his fingers flying
over its buttons. “It‟s sentient!”

“It‟s a woman. It‟s her,” said Donna angrily.

“Well, technically it‟s just a...”

“Who‟s killing you?” repeated Sam.

“The monster,” moaned Angelina. “The abnormality.”

“Who is it?” asked Dean. “The abnormality, what is that?”

“He came from the outside. He slid through the hole. A howling abyss.

Darkness, darkness, fear. He‟s killing us!”

“Help us!” There were other ghosts there now as well; one that Donna
recognised as an unfortunate businessman Justus Blaine, and others, men

and women, all terrified, all flickering oddly, all begging them for help.
Dean was turning slowly on the spot, trying to somehow point his shotgun
at all of them at once. Sam had an expression of sorrow and

concentration on his face. The Doctor was in heaven; his strange device
probing the air around the apparitions as he was running wildly from one

room‟s corner to the other. Donna‟s heart was breaking. She blinked
quickly to stop herself from crying and sniffed loudly.

“We will. I swear, we will!”

“Can you tell us more?” insisted Sam, so totally in control now, it made
Donna a bit uncomfortable; she used to think Dean was a head of the

Winchester‟s team. “We need details. Who is he? How can we find him?”

“He‟s wrong,” said Justus Blaine. “So wrong.”

“Yeah, „cause you‟re so right,” mocked Dean quietly.

“He‟s pain,” added another ghost.

“He‟s not a man,” said a ghost lady, her white dress in rags, long hair
dripping wet. “He‟s a monster.”

“How is he killing you?” asked Sam.

“Right, because you‟re dead already, actually,” the Doctor chipped in.
Donna shot him a killer glance. He shrugged. “Well, they are.”

“Makes us weak. Drains us. Ooh, it hurts,” Angelina whined. “It hurts so

much. He‟s so thirsty. He can‟t be quenched.”

“Just... just calm down,” said Sam. “We‟ll try to help.”

“Will we?” asked Dean. “Sammy, that‟s not what we do. We don‟t help

them. We...”

“I know who you are.” Justus turned to him. “Hunters. I know the

markings. I know your smell. Did a bunch of you in, I did. It‟s in the past
though. Doesn‟t matter now. We need your help. Please, help us.”

“Why should we?” Dean pointed his sawn-off at Justus‟s midriff. “Why

should we save a bunch of bloody spooks?”

Justus met his gaze without hesitation.

“She‟s not hurting anyone,” he pointed at Angelina. “Most of them, they

benign. It‟s strange, how I wasn‟t aware of it before, but now I know. I
understand. I see why I am here; I know what I‟ve done. Waste me, if

you want, just save them.”

“The energy, it‟s just incredible!” exclaimed the Doctor. “Whatever has

happened here, there was a definite energy boost that stabilised their
engrams. They‟ve become sentient shadows and that‟s... that‟s

unbelievable! For all intents and purposes we are dealing with conscious
beings!”

“Ghosts,” Donna whispered.

“What energy boost?” Sam asked. “What has happened to you?”

“There was this surge, this calling in the wind,” said Angelina. She
crossed her hands on her chest, as if cold. “Then the hole appeared. We

all went to see. It was calling us from all around the place. Just calling.
We had to go. We could not resist.”

“There was a fire burning,” continued another woman. “A flaming path.
The sky opened and spat on earth. It kept us warm.”

“It plummeted down. It crashed. And then the monster emerged,”

Angelina sobbed. “And it devoured us. It is so hungry. So thirsty. It never
stops.”

“We‟ve been far enough to break away,” added Justus. “We all ran. We
kept together. We hid. But it has followed.”

“Please, help us!”

“This... is... wizard!” the Doctor wheezed. He blinked quickly, shot a
sideways glance at Donna and cleared his throat. “I mean it‟s... erm...
brilliant?”

“In what way?” Donna snorted and all the ghosts turned their eyes at the
Doctor.

“Well, something has given them... you... awareness,” the Doctor said.

“Something‟s made you real! Isn‟t it great?”

“It is killing them, Doctor,” Donna growled.

“Yes, well, inconvenient, true, but...”

The barrel of Dean‟s shotgun jerked up in his hands, as he let go of the
trigger. He rested the sawn-off on his shoulder and sighed deeply.

“Nothing‟s simple these days, is it?” he grumbled. “Angels with hidden

agendas, demons with bleeding hearts, good werewolves and honest
thieves. World‟s just gone a one, big, fucking oxymoron!”

“Didn‟t know you even...” Sam restrained himself with difficulty. “Erm,
doesn‟t matter.”

“What?!” Dean shrugged. “What?!”

“Nothing,” Sam looked away, eyes wide. “Oxymoron though...?”

“You think I‟m an idiot!”

“No. I don‟t.”

“Yes. You do. Well I know things!”

“I‟ve never said you...”

“Ooops!” said the Doctor. Both Winchesters turned to him, angry and
happy at the same time.

“What?”

“I‟ve got an upsurge!” the Doctor yelled.

“Maybe you should keep it to yourself.” Dean chuckled.

“On my detector!” the Doctor shouted. “Energy surge! Something‟s
coming!”

“What something?” asked Donna. Her words were drowned by a sudden
buzz of ghosts‟ voices. They were flickering madly now; one second

burning bright white light, the other almost disappearing. Angelina Prow
reached her hands to Donna, as if trying to grab her.

“It‟s coming!” she wailed. “Oh, God, it‟s coming! Help us! Help us,

please!”

“Help us!” lamented the other ghosts. “Save us!”

“Do something!” bellowed Justus. “Do something... please!”

“It’s coming!” shrieked Angelina, and then there was silence.

.10. The Hole in the World

It didn‟t have any distinct shape, at least not at first. Just a swirl of
darkness emerging from a space in-between normal dimensions. It was

there, and yet it seemed to be approaching their world from an
unbelievable distance. There was a long, horrible, coughy whine that

drilled into their brains like a five-inch-long screw. All the ghosts flickered
out immediately, to reappear in the corners of the dusty theatre; silent
now; dark hollow eyes wide with primal fear. The device in the Doctor‟s

hands spurted a bright stream of sparks and died with a hiss. All the
elements of the apparatus on the floor exploded one after another in an

unstoppable chain reaction. Dean‟s shotgun went off, the Doctor dropped
his useless energy amplifier, Donna shrieked, and Sam jumped in front of

them all, raising his arm, hand open, as if the sheer gesture could stop
whatever was coming.

The weirdest thing was – it did stop.

The darkness swirled and bulged, held at bay by the younger Winchester.
The Doctor gasped quietly and reached for his sonic screwdriver. Donna

took cover behind his back; a corner of her mind moaning about the
slimness of such barricade. Dean kept pumping bullets into the cloud of

darkness; ricochets whizzing madly around. Sam trembled with extortion,
his eyes screwed, teeth gritting. A rivulet of blood trickled suddenly from

his nostril, across his pale lips, and down his chin. Sam faltered,
staggered back, one hand still restraining the smoke, another pressed to

his temple. He moaned with pain.

“Sam?!” yelled Dean. “Sammy, no!”

“I can hold it!” the younger Winchester wheezed. “But not for long! Just...

get outa here! Run!”

“Not bloody likely!” Dean reloaded and moved closer to his brother. “I‟m

not leaving you!”

Sam moaned painfully and dropped to his knees. Donna shrieked from
behind the Doctor‟s shoulder. The Doctor probed the air with his sonic

screwdriver. Dark cloud howled, whined and coughed. It elongated, part
of it still kept at bay by Sam‟s efforts, the other part stretching upwards

and then cumulating above their heads like a black, menacing smoke
layer. Ready to fall down on their heads; to smother them to death with

its oily folds.

“It‟s a...” The Doctor‟s words were lost in the horrific noise the creature
made. He shook his head and grabbed Donna‟s wrist. She had to read his

lips to understand: “Run, Donna! Run for your life!”

“What about them?” she shouted back, pointing at Sam, kneeling now
with both hands outstretched in front of him, eyes turned upwards and

flashing wide half-moons of sclera, blood gushing from his nostrils. “It‟s
killing him!”

Dean must have come to the same conclusion, as he dropped the useless
shotgun and wrapped his arms around Sam‟s chest, trying to lift him up

from the floor and possibly drag him away to safety. In a blink of an eye
Sam‟s body went limp, lifeless, his head rolling on his shoulders. He
slumped in his brother‟s grip – a dead weight dragging them both down.

The cloud reared, spurted multiple tentacles and started lashing at them
with vicious spite. One of the tentacles slashed across Sam‟s face and a

new  gush  of  blood  started  dripping  down  on  his  chest.  The  younger
Winchester  opened  his  eyes  and  moaned  in  pain.  Dean  shouted
something  unrecognisable,  and  moved  quickly,  pushing  Sam  down,

swapping places. The tentacle lashed at his back, ripping his khaki
coloured shirt and a brown T-shirt. Dean cried out and swirled, facing the

enemy...

And then all of it gained even more speed, while slowing down to almost
frame-by-frame motion in Donna‟s eyes, as if she was watching stills of

the events in front of her; allowing her to notice all the detail, but not
giving her enough time for reaction. The Doctor jumped forward, his sonic

flashing blue light. Dean turned towards the mass of tentacles writhing
above him. Sam fell hard on his back, his face covered with blood, but
eyes open, aware and terrified. The Doctor pointed the sonic screwdriver

at the vicious cloud. Dean managed to half-get up from the floor, still on
one knee, right hand reaching towards the sheathed knife fixed to his

calf. A dozen or more tentacles shot towards him, just as Dean produced
a long, jagged knife, and moved his arm in a wide, circular gesture,

cutting through the smoke, and leaving behind wide, glowing gashes. The
sonic  gave  away  a  sharp  trill.  Two  tentacles  pushed  through  Dean‟s
defence  and  stabbed  at  him  wildly.  He  twisted  away  from  under  one  of
them,  but  the  other  reached  him  and  seared  through  this  body,  pinning

him to the floor. Sam yelled and outstretched his hand again, forcing his
mind-power to resurface through the haze of dizziness. Dean coughed up

a good amount of blood, spraying new freckles onto his pale cheeks. The
sonic‟s trill exploded with a mad crescendo. All went iridescent white.

And then the monster was gone.

Donna swayed and fell down on her knees. She was under the impression
that she would move on all fours till the end of her days, as her legs felt

jelly-like and numb. She crawled slowly towards Dean, sprawled on the
floor in the puddle of his own blood. Sam, being closer to his brother, got

to him first, and applied pressure to a wound in Dean‟s stomach. Donna
handed him a little white jacket, she was wearing over her sea-blue top.

Sam folded it and pressed to Dean‟s wound.

The Doctor was the only one left standing. The sonic screwdriver in his
hand still sang excitedly.

“We have seconds!” he yelled. “That pushed it away, but it‟ll be back!”

“Dean?!” groaned Sam. “Jesus, Dean! Talk to me, man! Just talk to me!”

“S...he... she said that he... he‟d be f...first...” Donna stuttered. “Oh, my
God, oh, my God, oh, my God! It can‟t be happening!”

“Dean, just hold on, OK? Just hold on!”

“We need to get out of here!”

“Oh, my God, Dean!”

“Don‟t you dare to die on me! You hear me?! Don‟t you dare!”

Angelina, Justus, the Drowned Lady and other apparitions moved closer,
pale and flickering, their hands pressed to their hearts and mouths. Now

Sam, Dean, Donna and the Doctor were in the middle of their circle.

“Don‟t just stare!” howled Sam. “Help him!”

“Sam, they‟re just ghosts,” Donna whispered.

The puddle of Dean‟s blood was spreading quickly.

“Oh, fuck!” Sam swore desperately. “Oh, Dean!”

“It‟s coming back!” The Doctor checked his sonic screwdriver and turned
towards them quickly. “We need to shift!”

“Dean!”

“Doctor!”

The Doctor halted suddenly.

“It‟s here!”

All the ghosts yelled in unison, as the old theatre building cracked and
trembled. The walls bent inwards sending splinters across the room.

Donna gasped, suddenly light-headed, as if there was not enough oxygen
in the air she was breathing. Then the floor shook and the walls flew

away. There they were, in the eye of the storm, protected only by ghosts
holding hands and enclosing them in their circle. The whirlwind of debris

roared behind their flickering images; a mad merry-go-round of broken
planks, red velvet chairs, old newspapers, bricks, ropes, shreds of glass,

green sheets of plastic, torn carpets and curtains. The cinema theatre fell
apart, swallowed by the tornado, and now they were in the middle of it

all, sucked up and away, somewhere above the Summit Creek, Colorado,
above the US, above the world, into the regions, where the air was to thin

and too cold to breathe, so far from the ground below, it could take them
a long while to fall down and die.

Donna felt the Doctor‟s hands on her shoulders, but she screwed her eyes
closely, refusing to look. The whirlwind was spinning them madly, but not

quickly enough to tear them apart, as a real tornado should. She could
feel an upwards movement, still upwards, as if the storm meant to

remove them from the Earth‟s atmosphere and dispose of them
somewhere in the cold outer space. With her eyes tightly shut, she

screamed through the wind‟s howls:

“What‟s going on?”

“A crack!” the Doctor shouted back. “There‟s a rift! A hole in the world!”

“What?!”

“Just look at it!”

“Doctor, we‟re going to die! I don‟t care about holes in the world! There‟s
no way we‟re gonna make it!”

“Oh, just look at it! C‟mon, aren‟t you curious!? C’mon!”

“If we survive this, I‟m gonna kill you!” Donna opened her eyes for a brief
moment, long enough to see a weird image above their heads. The sky

was split in half, bleeding embers of electric discharges marking the edges
of the tear in the sky. Beyond the rift, there was a dizzying waste of

darkness and lights, somehow defying all the rules Donna was used to on
Earth. It was so sickening, she almost threw up.

“What‟s that?!”

“A transdim...”

A force sucking them all up suddenly disappeared. Donna could swear
that for a brief while they were suspended in mid-air, just like Wiley the

Coyote a second before plummeting to the bottom of the canyon. Then
they started falling. The rush of air pressed all the words and screams

back into their lungs. It was impossible even to breathe. They were free-
falling. And falling. And falling... A long descent towards a very mushy

end.

To be continued…