#HEY WATSON WAGNER NIGHT WITH ME -Holmes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hekate1308 · 6 years ago

Text

Timey Wimey

Drowley Doctor Who AU. Doctor!Crowley, companion!Dean. Enjoy!

Dean Winchester was once again working late in his home office. He’d decided he might as well finish grading the papers was working on.

“Leave it to an Austrian to finally write comprehensively about art restitution” he mumbled to himself, “Good girl.” At least she would hopefully get the attention she deserved once he published his piece on her book.

His thoughts were interrupted by one of the strangest noises he had ever heard; a grinding, scratching, yet somehow comforting noise. It seemed to come from the garden. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness outside his window, but decided to check just to be sure. He grabbed a flashlight and went outside.

He blinked, then rubbed his eyes.

It couldn’t be true.

And yet there was a big blue box standing in his rocket salad. It looked like a telephone box he’d once seen in an old British film –

“Hello there, Professor Winchester” a voice said. He reeled around.

A bearded man was watching him, looking bemused. “In short, name’s Crowley, this is a time machine and there’s a bit of a problem I have to solve. Fancy a ride?”

“What?” He stared at the stranger who had somehow found his way into his garden and was now asking him if he wanted to take a ride... in a telephone box.

“Alright, once again for the slow among us... time machine, time travel, you in or out?”

“Wait a second, who are you –“

“I just told you” he said impatiently.

“Crowley’s not a name.”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Rifle.”

Dean huffed. “Still, you are in my garden, so I get to ask the questions, I’d say.”

“Technically there might be a point in what you say, but time is of the essence.”

“Not if you have a time machine” Dean pointed out.

“Good, so you’re smart after all. That will be useful. Now come on, into the snogbox.”

“The what?”

“Oh, don’t flutter those pretty eyelashes at me and don’t expect me to notice.”

“I wasn’t –“

“Whatever you were or were not doing, no time to explain it now. Come on.”

He was so surprised that he actually let himself be dragged to the box. “Now, listen, buddy, I have no idea what –“

Crowley snapped his fingers. “Juliet, welcome our guest.”

The doors of the telephone box opened. Dean’s eyes widened.

The man simply strolled into the huge room as if it was nothing while he followed him, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. “But this –“

“I know. Now can we –“ he sighed when Dean ran outside before returning. “Alright, say it, everyone does –“

“It’s much smaller from the outside!!!”

He blinked. “Alright, I just heard that for the first time, I’ll give you that.”

“But how –“

“This is a TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. She prefers to be called Juliet, though.”

“I see.” To his evident surprise, Dean took this explanation in stride; but he could hardly fault him for naming his... vehicle, for lack of a better word, thinking of Baby. “Hello, Juliet.”

A strange sound emitted from deep within the console. “She seems to like you” Crowley said, clearly annoyed.

“I’m very likeable. So, now that we have established you have some freaky different dimension thing going on...”

“How do you know that?”

Dean shrugged. “I’m into science fiction.”

He studied him, then nodded. “Oh yes. You’ll do.”

“I’ll do how –“

He snapped his fingers and the doors closed. “Hey!” Dean ran back to the door and tried to open it while the machine made the same noises that had originally lured him into the garden.

“That won’t work; they don’t open whole we’re in motion.”

“In motion!? Where the Hell are you taking me –“

“Where do you think? Hello? I just kidnapped an historian in my time machine, and considering your last publication was about the Elizabeth Armstrong case, I got to thinking about all those girls who mysteriously vanished –“

“Oh God, are you talking about the Vanishings? Many believe today that Colin Wilson invented them for his book, he never even had a –“

“Please, can we do this without the indignant historical rant? I have to focus here –“

“Oh what, you’re just pressing buttons –“

The noise stopped. “There we are” Crowley commented.

“What do you mean –“

“I mean, London, 1887. A year before the Ripper murders, two years after the Armstrong scandal, William T. Stead is still on his crusade to save the poor girls from a life in corruption” he explained sarcastically.

“You can’t tell me we just went to London in the year 1887.”

“You can check it yourself” he drawled, pointing at the doors.

Dean told himself that it was absolutely ridiculous to feel afraid. Of course they were still in his garden. How were they supposed to have moved –

The door opened on its own – maybe Juliet was desperate to show off as well? – and Dean hastened to look outside.

What he saw did astound him – but probably not in the way Crowley had hoped.

“And?” he sounded smug.

“Well, we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say, Dorothy?”

Dean decided to keep it casual. “I don’t know, I was promised London in 1887. Not pre-revolutionary France. Not that this is not impressive in its own way, you know, but –“

“What?” Crowley shoved him lightly to the side to check the market place they had landed on. He sighed. “You’re right.”

“I know my pre-revolutionary wardrobe.”

“So it would seem, professor.” Crowley closed the door. “Seems like I have to recalibrate Juliet’s chronometer...” he mumbled to himself.

Dean had to suppress a smile.

Their next attempt was more successful. Dean opened the doors and all he saw was fog. He immediately started to cough. “What the –“

“Ah, the good old London fog” Crowley said, strolling up to him. “You’ll get used to it.”

“But how –“

“Time and Relative Dimension in Space. I told you we were going time travelling, and you recognized France just a few moments ago...”

“I see” Dean said weakly. His head was spinning. They couldn’t possibly – and yet –

He was dreaming. That was the only explanation. He had fallen asleep over his work, not for the first time, and now he was dreaming about a pretty good-looking guy who had whisked him away into the London of 1887.

The Victorian Age had always fascinated him, and Eliza Armstrong’s case had awoken his curiosity by pure chance, if he was being honest. But it had been an interesting project, and he had enjoyed the work he’d done on it.

And if this was just a dream – why not enjoy the ride?

Sadly, his hypothesis couldn’t stand for long. “Down the corridor to your right, third door on the left, then the second one on the right, and then straight ahead” Crowley said, pointing the way.

“What?”

“You’d gather a bit of attention, walking around in your twenty-first century clothes, wouldn’t you say?”

Dreams weren’t that... lucid or logical. But this couldn’t be real, he told himself as he strolled down the endless corridors of the TARDIS... Juliet... whatever.

And yet he found a wardrobe with everything he needed. Luckily, he knew all there was about the wardrobe of then late nineteenth century; figuring out how to put it on was still a challenge, however, and by the time he’d made it back to the console room, Crowley was already leaning against the door in his own dark tail coat, looking bored. “And here I thought you were supposed to be an expert.”

“Doesn’t mean I spend my time putting on dresses from bygone time periods” Dean said.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “You look rather good for your lack of practice, I have to see.”

Dean knew he was blushing, and hated himself for it. Why did the garments have to fit Crowley so well? It was unfair.

“Let’s go, then.”

And he opened the door with a snap on his fingers and strolled out as if walking into 1880s London was no big deal. “Hey, wait for me!” Dean called out, and yet he still hesitated on the step. He was a historian; he had dreamt of this possibility all his life.

Juliet gave a hum that Dean thought was meant to be reassuring – if she was indeed sentient, that was – and he took a deep breath and ventured forth.

“I was wondering if you’d decided to stay inside after all” Crowley drawled.

“It’s not every day you travel into the past:”

“For me, it is. And every night. But that happens to Time Lords, so I will forgive your usual human babbling.”

“Time... are you telling me you’re not human?”

“Exactly that” Crowley said matter-of-factly and began walking. Dean hurried after him.

“Wait! You can’t just tell me you’re some kind of... alien and expect me to follow you as if it is nothing!”

“Considering what we’re here for, it is nothing. It’s of no importance to the Vanishings...”

“But – how do I know you’re telling the truth, if I’m not hallucinating all of this?”

Crowley stopped and sighed. “You won’t let this go, I see.”

And, without further ado, he drew Dean’s hand to his breast. “Feel that?”

He could indeed feel Crowley’s heartbeat and blushed. “Dude, we’re in 19th century London...”

“And in a world where Conan Doyle could happily write about Holmes and Watson walking arm in arm” Crowley replied, the moved his hand.

Dean frowned. “What are you...” he trailed off and his eyes widened. Then, he moved his hand back to Crowley’s left breast and to his right again.

“Two hearts. All Time Lords have them.”

“Two... hearts. You have two... hearts.”

“Correct. I also happen to be immortal. And now, come on. The Vanishings won’t solve themselves.”

And he would again have walked away as if nothing had happened. This time, however, Dean listened to him and he certainly had more to say on the subject, now that he had to accept that his companion was... if not an alien (how?) then very strange indeed.

“Look, I am telling you – the Vanishings are just a myth. I was disappointed myself when I found out; I loved Colin Wilson’s books as a kid. Part of my reason for wanting to become a historian was so I could write like him, and then I found out he barely paid attention to sources, invented a serial killer, and believed himself to be a genius.”

“So what happened to Eliza Carter? Why was Charles Wagner found near the Thames, but had not drowned? And who killed Amelia Jeffs?”

“Granted, I would like to know too, but I only ever found evidence of Eliza Carter actually existing, and the other two – I have no idea where they come from. Maybe Colin Wilson found some obscure mention in an old penny dreadful and freaked out because he took it seriously. He actually believed Suetonius, can you believe it?“

“You will love Madame Vastra” Crowley said sarcastically.

“Madame Vastra?”

“Yes. She’s a Silurian. Her and her wife Jenny – and Strax have decided to live here.”

“But – what – are you telling me there are other aliens in Victorian London!?”

“Oh yes. You don’t know half of it.”

Now Crowley sounded decidedly smug, and Dean chose not to pay him more attention. Instead, he focused on the world around him.

His whole life, it seemed to him, he had studied the past. He had seen pictures, and daguerreotypes, and paintings; he had read diaries and newspapers and old files that were so dusty they’d made him cough for days; he’d thought to understand the passions of a man who killed both his wife and her lover with a sword upon finding them in bed together, of a young girl who had been crowned queen and had yet started a romance with her husband’s courtier, of a woman who would throw herself under the horse of her sovereign to ensure those that came after her would be allowed to vote.

And now he was here, now he was actually in the past, and it was so much more than he had imagined.

A few dirty children passed him, loudly singing a nursery rhyme. On the next street corner, a woman solicited him, and he hastily moved on, Crowley sniggering behind him. “Not quite what you thought it was like, hm?”

“I just didn’t think it would be... natural.”

“But of course. As large as life, and twice as natural.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Now and then when Madame Vastra calls for help. She knows I’m the best.”

“I see being humble isn’t one of your virtues.”

“I don’t have any but if I had, this would definitely not be one of them, you’re right about that.”

“Then why are you trying to solve some old murder cases that no one even knows where cases to begin with?”

“It’s fun” Crowley said simply, “And I’m easily bored.”

Dean was left to stare after him as he went on. Fun? Solving a murder? Then again, he thought somewhat guiltily, it’s not like he wasn’t being entertained right now.

He hastened to catch up.

“Here we are” Crowley said suddenly. He turned around. “A few ground rules. They might time travel from time to time, but they are living here, so no mention of the future, that just confuses things. And especially not Jack the Ripper.”

“Why not Jack the Ripper?” Dean asked, somewhat disappointed.

“Because Madame Vastra is going to eat” Crowley said.

“What!?”

“You heard me. One way of getting rid of the problem.”

“But... who was he?” Dean asked, at least desperate top hear a name.

“A nobody. No one had ever heard of him, his name wasn’t in any of the files.”

“You’re kidding me.”

Crowley’s expression made it clear that he was not, in fact, kidding.

Damn it.

All the research he had done over the years, and it was all for nothing.

“Don’t look that downcast, just remember that Stewart thought it was a crazy midwife and be happy you didn’t write his book on the subject.”

“That’s barely a compliment. It’s one of the worst –“

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s hope they’re home.” And without further ado, Crowley rang the doorbell.

“But –“

The... person that opened the door could best have been described as a living, breathing, talking potato and Dean did his best not to stare.

“Crowley. We weren’t expecting you.”

“That’s because I didn’t tell you I was coming, Strax” he said smoothly. “I need to speak to Madame Vastra and Jenny. It’s important.”

“They are not at home at the moment, but please, the girl and you are welcome to step in.”

“The girl?” Dean asked.

“They have never thought it necessary to learn about the human obsession with gender” Crowley said, stepping in.

“Would you like some blood of the enemies we slaughtered as a refreshment?” Strax asked.

“Sorry, what?”

He looked disappointed. “I mean, would you like some water or wine?”

“Water, please.” He thought it better to keep his wits.

“A good decision. You don’t know what that Silurian wine can do to you” Crowley said, stepping up to inspect a painting hanging in the living room. “Turner. Original.”

“What?” Dean stepped up to him. Art had never been his are of expertise, but he thought he was right. “So Strax is –“

“Another alien. Naturally.”

“And... Madame Vastra and Jenny?”

“Jenny’s human, Madame Vastra a Silurian.”

“A what?”

“Oh, you’ll see” Crowley smirked.

Strax entered with a tablet. “I have also brought the beverage made out of loose leaves these Londoners are so fond of.”

Dean decided he definitely could use some tea. “Thank you.”

Strax looked at him, then briskly informed Crowley, “Your boy is more polite than you” before disappearing again.

Dean flushed at being called Crowley’s boy, but the Time Lord didn’t appear to be affected in the least. “Is he always like that?”

“Oh no, normally, he threatens anyone he meets with violence. He must like you.”

“I see” Dean said somewhat weakly. “But...” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Crowley asked, sitting down and taking a book from a nearby shelf.

“Look” Dean tried, “not that I am not grateful – how many historians do get such a chance? But you are trying to solve a Victorian criminal case. And you’re waiting for an alien detective and her wife to help you do so. I get how they can be helpful, but... what about me? I’m just a historian.”

“Just a historian who, as you just so rightfully pointed out, travelled back in time. Most of what we know from this time period is because we have had various adventures during it, but you have studied this, somewhat obsessively, might I add.”

“It’s interesting, alright”? Dean mumbled.

“Whatever you say, but my point is, a historian is always going to be useful in the long run.”

He nodded. It was as good a reason as any. And he would have lied if he had said he wasn’t looking forward to meeting the alien detective.

Madame Vastra, when she returned with her wife a few minutes later, proved to be a... giant lizard-person. Thankfully, Dean had at least known she was an alien, so he didn’t react.

“Crowley. This is a surprise.” She looked at Dean and narrowed her eyes. “You have never been known to take on passengers if they couldn’t help you. So who is this?”

“Dean Winchester, a historian” Crowley introduced him.

Jenny’s eyes widened. “What, the one whose entire oeuvre you’ve read at least three times?”

What happened next was something so incredible Dean at first wasn’t sure he wasn’t imaging it, but he was right.

Crowley was blushing. “That has nothing to do with this. Dean is an expert on the Victorian age.”

“That is true indeed” Madame Vastra agreed. “And may I say, Professor, that your books are meticulously researched.”

“Thank you, and it’s Dean.”

“Really” she said, studying him, “Quite an unusual companion for you...”

“He’s not my companion” Crowley said quickly, as if the word meant something special – and it probably did, Dean didn’t speak alien, after all. “He’s just helping me on the case. The Vanishings.”

“The Vanishings?” Jenny asked. “but those are just stories, am myth invented by Colin Wilson.”

“Told you” Dean said simply as Crowley rolled his eyes.

“You might wish to ignore what’s going on right in front of you, but I don’t have that privilege.”

“On the contrary, you usually have” Madame Vastra said, “So what is it? Why are you here?”

“You usually don’t need a reason –“

“But this time, you brought an expert with you and you seem rather eager to take on the case” she observed calmly, looking at Dean once again. “I would say something’s afoot.”

“Yeah, well, but that is not what this is” Crowley dismissed her concerns, although Dean couldn’t help but feel there was more to it than that. Victorian London or not, he should definitely keep on his toes around the Time Lord, just to make sure.

“So what do we do now?”

“Well” Crowley drawled, “First of all we have to talk to the police and see the evidence. I am sure Madame Vastra can help us with that.”

She nodded. “Inspector Abberline owes me a favour.”

So at least she seemed to trust Crowley, his motives for taking this case notwithstanding, Dean reflected. That had to be a good sign.

And then he realized something else. “Frederick George Abberline!? He spluttered. “Detective in White Chapel? Soon-to-be the most famous hunter for Jack the Ripper there ever was?”

“Yes” she said calmly.

“Rule number two for time travel: no fanboying” Crowley snapped.

“I wasn’t, I just admire his work –“

“Sure. You do realize he’s over forty by now and slightly overweight –“

“And how old are you?”

Crowley shut up. Jenny sniggered. “You should keep him around. Could use someone to keep you on your toes.”

“What I need and do not need is none of your concern”.

“If you say so” Crowley said smoothly, having regained his equilibrium. “Do you think you could... stay calm around Inspector Abberline?”

“Of course. I’m a scientist, remember=”

“Historian.”

“Same thing, different subject.”

“If you say so” he repeated.

“Do you have anything else to say?”

“Not at the moment, but if you give me a second, I am certain I could come up with –“

“I will get ready to introduce you to Inspector Abberline” Madame Vastra interrupted them, looking vaguely... amused? “And I will ask Strax to bring the carriage.” With that, she and Jenny swept out of the room.

Crowley walked to a window so Dean couldn’t see his face as he said, “You took the introduction to alien life forms rather well.”

“I was kidnapped by one and brought to 1880s London, what could possibly surprise me anymore?” Dean asked.

“Good point.”

“There is something you are not telling me, though.”

“I have lived for hundreds of years, there are many things –“

“No. About the case.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because Madame Vastra is right” he announced with more certainty than he felt.

Crowley turned around and suddenly his eyes looked much older than before. “You think so?”

“Yes. Professor, remember? How many students do you think have lied to me over the years to get an extension on their due dates or a better mark?”

Crowley didn’t smile, despite Dean’s attempt to lighten the mood. “There are more things between Heaven and earth...”

“If you insist on quoting Shakespeare, I shall insist on meeting him.”

His smiled slightly. “Could be difficult. Queen Elizabeth I isn’t exactly a... fan of mine.”

“Why?”

“Almost lost the English their war against Spain.”

“How did you manage that?”

“Long story.”

“So. Will you tell me?” When Crowley didn’t answer, Dean sighed and stepped up to him. “look, I know how this is going to sound, but... I’ve decided to help you out. But I can’t do that if you leave me in the dark.” He did his best to give him Sam’s patented puppy dog eyes.

To his surprise, it worked. “That’s why I don’t go for companions. They are annoying.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Fine. But if you’re overwhelmed, it’s not my fault.”

“Again, time travel, aliens, Victorian London. Don’t think I can be that easily surprised anymore.”

“Fine. We Time Lords are an old race. We know many secrets. And when I read about these cases... I noticed something immediately.”

“What?”

“Especially the autopsy reports.”

“There was not a mark on him” Dean remembered, “and no one could find the cause of death.”

“That’s because his life force was drained. That was all.”

“His life force was drained?”

Crowley nodded. “Children have more of it than adults. I think the other suffered the same fate.”

“But...”

“It’s a very old and very dangerous technique, but it creates a lot of energy. Enough to run the New York city of your time for a million years.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “And you are here because...”

“Because, if someone is desperate enough to try it, he is desperate enough to do anything, and God knows what this would do to the fixed points in time.”

“There are fixed points?”

“Yes, points that can’t be altered. Bit with such an energy as this...”

“What’s in it for you?”

Crowley sighed. “There’s no question you won’t ask, is there?”

“Historian here. We never tire of questions.”

“Fine. Let’s just say me and the... council of Time Lords have had our differences, and solving this case would allow me to return to Gallifrey. “

“Gallifrey?”

“My home planet.”

“So you want your home back –“

“I could make a few wonderful deals there with everything I have learned” Crowley said with a smirk.

This man – alien – whatever – was a walking contradiction, Dean decided. He had sounded sincere when he had spoken of his home, but then he went ahead and talked as if it was a business transaction. Still...

He took a deep breath. “Alright, that makes me even glad to help. It’s important to have a home.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Perhaps it was for the best that at this moment, Madame Vastra and jenny returned and told them the carriage was ready. Dean immediately volunteered to sit beside Strax to see better.

After all, he was on his way to meet Inspector Abberline.

“Hello” Strax said when he jumped up, “I hope this one will brave.”

“You have more than one horse, then?”

“Only one at a time. And like I said, this better behave. I am tired of horse meat.”

“Horse meat?” Dean asked.

“The punishment for not obeying their orders is execution.”

“Of course” he said weakly. Unsure of how he should react. Certainly – well, maybe Crowley would have let him sit next to a homicidal maniac, but Madame Vastra and Jenny seemed too careful to allow him to walk to his doom.

“How long have you been Crowley’s companion?” Strtax asked and Dean blushed before he remembered that the word seemed to mean something quite different.

“I don’t think I am.”

“Crowley has never brought anyone with him before” he said matter-of-factly. “It seems clear to me that he must be interested in having you as his mate.”

“Woah” Dean said, colouring once more, “there is no mate-ing going on... mate.”

“If you say so. I never quite understood other species’ need to copulate.”

“How do you...” Dean started before he realized he was probably being incredibly impolite.

What followed was an explanation he’d rather have avoided, if he could.

“Dean Winchester” Madame Vastra began in the carriage. Crowley didn’t answer. “He seems... special.”

“Why, and why should that interest you?”

“Because it means he’s special to you”.

“I only met the man, for God’s sake.”

“And yet you took him with you.”

“And you’re a fan of his work, you can’t tell me otherwise” Jenny piped in.

“I will admit he writes well, and sometimes I get bored.”

“And yet... you have never willingly looked for someone to travel with you for a case” Madame Vastra said.

Crowley shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything. I don’t see why Dean Winchester is so important. Or special, as you say.”

“I’m a detective. Any aberration from the norm is important to me.”

Crowley stayed silent.

Alright, Winchester, play it cool. You have read about this age all your life, you can act like someone from here. You’re about to meet Inspector Abberline – be polite but distant, and let the others speak. That’s the best course.

Dean’s prep talk to himself did little to calm his nerves as they walked the steps towards the door of Scotland Yard’s headquarters. How often had he looked at pictures of this time period?

“Calm down” Crowley hissed, “This is hardly becoming for a gentleman.”

“You brought me here as a historian, and the historian in me is understandably freaking out” he mumbled back, ignoring Jenny’s giggle. After all, this was what he had lived for fro years – decades, even.

“Can I trust you to keep it to a minimum, at least?”

“I will try” was all he could answer as Madame Vastra was giving a PC instructions to tell Abberline they were here.

“They know me well” she said simply and Dean wondered just how long they had been living here.

Eventually, they were led into Abberline’s office, and Dean was confronted with the great man. Granted, he was already balding and a little stout, but still – this was Inspector Abberline. The man who knew more about the Jack the Ripper hunt than anyone – well, than Madame Vastra would, he had to admit. Still.

Crowley stood back as Madame Vastra greeted him and introduced then, but he didn’t seem as oblivious to the existence of time lords as Dean would have thought him to be. “Ah. Mr. Crowley. I assumed I would meet you eventually.”

Dean grinned a bit at the thought of Mr. Crowley, but was all respectful again when Abberline turned to him. “Inspector.”

“Mr. Winchester. You don’t happen to be related to the Winchester of Surrey, are you? I know a few of them.”

“I hope not professionally.”

“Oh, you know” his eyes glanced towards Jenny and Madame Vastra for a moment, “One can’t always have our... extraterrestrial friends nearby when something goes wrong.”

“I am more terrestrial than you, Inspector” Madame Vastra observed calmly.

Crowley cleared his throat. “May we talk about the case at hand?”

“Of course, Mr. Crowley. Now, as I understand, no one has of yet connected these Vanishings... But if Madame Vastra sees a case, there usually is one.”

She nodded.

“And you think there might be something... not quite human involved?”

“Isn’t there always when I’m about?” Crowley asked.

“That seems to be the case. Now, then...”

Abberline had the sharp mind Dean had always suspected him to possess; to use a cliché he would never have allowed one of his students to write down, he was a man before his time. They had soon worked out that the disappearances seems to centre around a specific three mile radius in East London – not far from where the Ripper would strike, but Dean was careful not to mention it – and even though he seemed downcast since he couldn’t order his men to help them, considering they didn’t even have an official case, it was a pleasure to work with him.

“And here I thought” Crowley drawled as they left, “He was married with children.”

Dean blushed, even though there had been nothing – they had simply talked pleasantly – there was –

“Jealousy? That’s a new one” Jenny commented drily.

“Please, you humans are merely mayflies for me, darling.”

Madame Vastra hissed.

“Who’s jealous now?” Crowley asked smugly.

“Nice save” Dean said.

“I can assure you –“

“I tech young students. Do you really think I don’t recognize ELEPHANT when I hear one?”

Crowley fell silent.

“So why those three miles?” Dean asked when they were standing in the middle of Whitechapel (and he admittedly had to restrain himself lest he go off on a tangent on his favourite topic). “I get that this place is densely populated, so it’s probably easier to snatch people of the street, but still.”

“There must be an explanation, there always is” Crowley said. “Maybe it’s some form of alien technology...”

“Why do I get that’s always your first answer when problems like this arise?”

“Because it’s true” Jenny said.

“We could just round up every inhabitant of this place and torture them in order to give us answers” Strax suggested.

Gwen they turned to look at him, he quickly said, “I mean we could ask them what’s going on.”

“Rather impractical, I am afraid” Crowley said smoothly. “No, we need to find the source of all of this – before it spreads.”

“What do you mean, spreads!?” Dean demanded. “Until now I thought we were just working a case –“ When he caught Madame Vastra’s eyes he continued, “not that that is not important, but I think we can all agree that more disappearances would not be a good thing.”

She simply nodded. “It will be best if we split up, then.”

Dean didn’t quite understand how he and Crowley had ended up looking for clues together – surely the experienced detectives should have been each in one group? But here they were, slowly making their way through the city Dean had read so much about.

“You should stare a little less, people tend to notice.”

“You’re an alien, and nobody notices that” Dean pointed out.

“That’s because I’m me.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Abberline didn’t notice anything being the matter with me.”

“And you actually think that had to do with your performance being convincing and not three other aliens stealing the show?”

“Why do you care, anyway?” Dean changed the subject.

Crowley’s shoulders stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“Madame Vastra seemed to imply this wasn’t your usual gig. So why do you care about The Vanishings?”

“Juliet sometimes has a mind of her own. She wouldn’t let me go anywhere else.”

The lie was so blatant, considering he had managed to pick up Dean, that it silenced him. All he could have done was accuse Crowley of lying, he would deny it, and that would be that.

Still, seemed like there was more than one mystery to solve here.

And yes, Dean knew that that sounded rather strange since he was in the middle of solving a crime with three aliens and a human married to a big lizard.

“What exactly is it that we’re looking for?” he asked as they walked past yet another gin shop. E had often wondered if the number of those had been exaggerated by the studies about the drinking habits of the people of the Victorian era. It hadn’t.

“Something out of place, something that doesn’t belong here.”

Dean gave him a pointed look.

“Something that is trying to hide the fact.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Something malicious.”

He snorted.

“What more do you want?”

“Alright, alright. Something out of place in London in 1887. Got it.”

Dean was starting to understand why Crowley had taken him with. He needed an expert. If whoever was responsible was as good at hiding what they were than the Time Lord...

Good God, yesterday my biggest problem were the many papers I had to grade, and now here I am...

Dean decided not to worry about it and concentrate on the task at hand.

In the end, he almost missed it even though he was doing his best to be watchful.

“Crowley” he said, reaching out and grabbing his arm to gain his attention, forcing himself not to notice how his muscles moves under his hand, “That gaslight.”

Crowley looked at it. “Yes?”

“It has gas mantles.”

“Yes.”

“They were invented in 1891” he hissed.

Crowley blinked. “Are you sure? Could have been 1791”.

“Are you confusing years now?”

He huffed. “Never.”

“You brought me here because I am the expert,. And I am telling you this gas light shouldn’t be here for at least another four years!”

“Alright darling, calm down.” Crowley was studying the lantern. “Do you feel something... off?”

“Off?” Dean asked, stepping closer. “Aside from the lantern that shouldn’t be –“ a cold queer feeling passed over him and he touched his forehead with his right hand, shaking his head. “What was that?”

“That” Crowley said “Was the sign that this is a trap street.”

“But trap streets are –“ Dean tried to explain for the third time that, if aliens wanted to use an English word to describe technology of theirs, they’d do good to use one that wasn’t already in a wholly different sort of use, but Crowley wouldn’t listen. He was scribbling down in something that looked like a notepad.

“Before you ask, you curious menace, I’m letting the others know what we found.”

“Curiosity is part of my job” he argued, “And what do you mean by –“

Crowley looked up and grinned that grin of his that Dean refused to think of as charming. “Oh, this is a special sort of notebook. It also doubles as my permission to do anything, as you can clearly read here.”

He passed it to Dean. He squinted down at the page Crowley had been writing on, confused. “Where did the writing go?”

When the Time Lord didn’t answer, he looked up to find Crowley staring at him, his mouth hanging slightly open. “What?”

“Nothing” he said quickly, taking back his notebook. “Nothing”.

But as he turned back to look at the gas lamp once more, Dean could hear him mutter, “Not since Will...”

The others arrived quickly. Madame Vastra looked at the lamp and her eyes narrowed. “Excellent observation. I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“Thank you” Dean said politely while Crowley just hummed.

“so there are aliens hiding here? In the middle of Whitechapel?” Jenny asked.

And for the first time, Crowley looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

He turned to look at the gang, but they all seemed wary, as if they didn’t expect Crowley to explain anything.

“Crow –”

He cleared his throat. “We should check –“

“Crowley!”

“What?”

“You can’t expect us to just barge in there without having a clue what’s going on, not while you obviously have” he argued.

Crowley stared at him. He stared back. Silence settled over them.

After he didn’t know how long, Crowley looked away and said, “There is only one person in this galaxy who I could imagine would be clever enough to create a gas lamp to hide the entry to their trap street, but careless enough to get it wrong by just a few years.”

Dean ignored the astonished looks the others bestowed on him to ask, “And who would that be?”

Crowley looked at him, then, and now there was something like defiance in his eyes. “If you really have to know – my ex.”

“So Time Lords have wives?” Dean asked. After Crowley’s confession, they had repaired to a nearby tavern. Knowing all too well that several diseases that were still around could probably kill him, he’d declined to have a drink.

“The institution of marriage is common amongst many life forms, but I didn’t mean that kind of ex.”

“So you just had a little fun on the Time Lord Planet?”

Crowley raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “It’s called Gallifrey, I told you. And it was over as soon as it begun – not that it matters, since it was rather long ago too. Several regenerations ago, in fact.”

“Regenerations?”

“That’s not the point here.” Crowley’s gaze seemed to go straight through him and back into a different time. “She was clever. Very clever. She had plans, and for a while I thought we wanted the same.”

“Intergalactic dominion?” Madame Vastra’s voice was detached. Dean turned his head to stare at her. Surely she didn’t mean –

“There was a moment in time where I thought it was a tempting prospect” Crowley agreed.

Suddenly, he looked different. Older, more dangerous than before. Dean slid a little back with his chair, and was surprised when Crowley actually seemed pained at the gesture.

Jenny looked between them, her eyes widening.

“Galactic domination is a praiseworthy goal” Strax said.

“Not if you want to then proceed to burn everything” Crolwey answered simply, as if this were a normal conversation. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“And so you ended it.”

“And so I left Gallifrey... After telling the Council what Lilith had been planning. I assume she won’t be happy to see me.”

“You knew it was her” Dean said quietly. “Or at least you suspected.”

Crowley shrugged. “One thing she was fascinated by was the use of life force to make her more powerful.”

“Life force?” Jenny asked

“Yes, that intangible energy that makes everyone scramble about.”

“But – you can just take that away?”

“Yes, and the victims of that are currently lying in the morgue.”

Dean shuddered, remembering what those poor children must have gone through.

“And that’s why we should probably stop her. God knows what Lilith could do with so much energy.”

“Crowley” Madame Vastra said suddenly, “A word. Outside?”

Dean watched them go. “What couldn’t they possibly talk about in front of us –“

“Oh, when these two get together, there are usually quite a few fights” Jenny said. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Dean knew she was probably right. Especially since they had other things to worry about – Strax had just decided to duel one of the servers.

“Crowley” Madame Vastra said as soon as they were out on the street, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to keep Lilith from –“

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Dean has more life force in him than I have ever seen in a human adult except for Jenny. And since he doesn’t have her combat skills, he’ll be easier to grasp.” After a pause, she added, “You knew that, of course. His skills as a historian were not the only reason you brought him here. Are you counting on him to distract Lilith?”

“You have to admit he makes quite the distracting side” Crowley argued.

“Not just for Lilith. Think about it Crowley – if you break your own heart, you help no one.”

He told himself he didn’t know what she was talking about.

By the time Crowley and Madame Vastra returned they had managed to calm veryone down, although Strax seemed disappointed he hadn’t gotten his duel. Dean was starting to wonder how they ever kept the existence of aliens a secret.

“Everything clear?” he asked.

Crowley sat down and nodded, but wouldn’t catch his eyes.

“There were some things we needed to discuss” Madame Vastra said smoothly. “Now, Mr. Winchester, I think I speak for all of us when I say you should best return to the TARDIS. You’ll be safe there.”

“Are you saying I’m supposed to stay behind while children are in danger!?”

“Mr. Winchester” she said again, glancing at Crowley, who was doing his best to give the impression that nothing that was happening had anything to do with him, “We both believe you could be a target, if Lilith should become aware of you.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Too much life force” Crowley suddenly pressed out. He finally looked at Dean again. “You don’t think Time Lords just get randomly interested in historians, do you? Especially since we witness a lot of history ourselves. You are... special, Dean Winchester, and by God it’s annoying.”

His tone suggested that it was anything but, and once again he couldn’t say how long they were staring at one another when Jenny cleared her throat and Strax began to complain that they weren’t doing anything.

“So you see Dean, if Crowley says...”

2I’m not going to be safe and sound while children are being killed off by a crazy Time Lady” he decided. “You can try and stop me.”

“We could” Madame Vastra sounded amused, “But I think having you with us might actually be a tactical advantage”. She was studying him with a look that told him he’d earned her respect by insisting he stay on the time.

“Yeah. I can play bait, if my life force is as strong as you think it is.”

“This might actually work” Crowley said with reluctance. “Lilith could never resist the chance to find another victim.”

“Seems like she’s got problems focusing” Dean answered. “If she –“

“Can we please not go nice university professor on the Time Lady who wants to burn the universe?”

He raised his hands. “Just saying.”

Jenny laughed. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.”

Dean winked. “Trust me, that’s what they all say.”

As soon as they entered the trap street, Dean started to wonder how no one could have noticed it. There was a feeling of wrongness, of this being not right, permeating to his core.

The others didn’t seem to notice or care. Then again, he assumed they were used to that kind of thing.

Burn the universe. Lilith actually wanted to burn the universe. He shuddered. In contrast to the others, he didn’t think Crowley would ever have gone that far; there was just something about him that told Dean he’d never give up the opportunity to make deals just to destroy it all. It wasn’t exactly a nice thought but it was good enough.

“Where do you think she is?” he whispered.

“Most likely at the heart of it all” Madame Vastra answered. “Snakes usually hide in the heart of their den.”

“Or in their TARDIS” Crowley supplied.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, you’re not a snake. A bit eccentric maybe, but not a snake.”

“Many would disagree with you.”

“University professor, remember? I get paid to be right.”

“These two are engaging in what I believe usually leads to this disgusting habit of –“ Strax began but Jenny hushed him.

“What is our plan, anyway?” Dean asked; it had occurred to him that he probably should have asked that before.

“Ambush. Lilith is wonderful at coming up with all kinds of convoluted ideas for how to get things done, and she usually plans long hand, but give her some real opposition and she doesn’t know what to do.”

“Alright. So I’ll play bait so you can come up from behind?”

Crowley nodded.

“Okay. Just... make sure you get her before all my life force is drained out of my body, okay?”

“Don’t worry” Strax replied. “We shall conquer her lair and fill the room with acid so she may slowly dissolve under excruciating pain.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Strax grinned. “Isn’t it?”

Walking down a trap street. Dean decided half an hour later, was much less exciting than it sounded. In fact, it was a whole web of streets just going on and on – and completely empty, too. “What does she need all of this... place for anyway?”

“To confuse her enemies, of course. If they’re caught in a labyrinth, they are not going to –“

“Wait, are we lost?”

“Oh no” Crowley said, “We have to go to the right twice and once to the left, and we’d come back out. A time Lord never loses his way.”

Dean was rather sceptical of that due to their experiences, but Crowley sounded sure as to where they were. “Okay. So –“

They should have known, he would later reflect,. That things couldn’t be so easy, especially if Lilith was indeed the piece of work Crowley had described.

Dean would never completely recall the ambush (which, as would eventually be explained to him,, had to do with the neuroagent Lilith had sued to knock him out).

When he came to, he was fettered to what looked like a pretty decent reproduction of a medieval dungeon. Dean should know; he had once spent a semester working on a project on those with his students.

Seemed like playing bait had worked out a little too well, he decided.

“Ah, Professor Winchester. I am a big fan of your work – not as big as Crowley, of course, but then he does have this unfortunate weak spot for humans in his hearts –“

Dean snorted. It was difficult to imagine Crowley having any weak spots.

“Well, not that it matters. You have a brilliant mind for a human, but I am afraid that means nothing when compared to your life force...”

A woman stepped in front of him. Like Crowley, she looked human – and then she blinked and her eyes turned white. Dean jerked away.

She smiled. “Not that brave after all, are we?”

“Sorry, I’m not used to evil skanks showing their cards so openly” he sneered.

She studied him, obviously not in the least bit intimated.

“What have you done to the others?”

“Oh, don’t worry – all their life forces are strong as well. I would never waste such powers. And Crowley... well, there is always hope he will see sense.” She was still smiling that unsettling smile of hers.

“Crowley will never work with you. He made that mistake once.”

“My my, you seem to have a higher opinion of him than most.”

“What can I say? I’m a people person.”

“And putting on a brave facade. They usually do. Well, the adults. It’s part of why I began to work on children...” she reached out and put a finger under his chin, forcing him to look into her eyes. “It’s so much more enchanting when you can see the open fear. And, of course, fear carries a lot of power in itself. Don’t worry, we’ll get there.”

Good God. How had he gone from grading papers in his study to a trap street in the London of 1887 where crazy aliens could and would win power out of fear and your very life? Dean, however, was determined not to show that he was scared.

As crazy as it was, as little as he knew him, he trusted Crowley. Word on the street seemed to be that this was a mistake, but so it was.

He would have to wait and bide his time. And try not to die.

What could go wrong?

Crowley would never have imagined that Lilith was nostalgic, for so it seemed. If he had captured her, he would have stopped her hearts and then made sure regeneration couldn’t set it. After all, as his witch of a mother had always said, better to deal with problems thoroughly.

Instead of starting to decompose, however, he was now sitting in a cell, and it seemed that he was here to stay for quite some time. At least according to Lilith.

Needless to say that he had other plans.

Lilith and her obsession with details. The cell looked pretty accurate.

But, remembering the gaslight...

Her impatience. That’s where he’d always got her. Granted, patience wasn’t one of the virtues he had never possessed in the first place, but he knew when to get a job well done to avoid complications. And Lilith didn’t.

Unless this was all just a rouse to get him to break out and trap him again, much more permanently... He wouldn’t have put it past her.

Still – He had to get out of here quickly.

After all, there was no telling how desperate Lilith was to get her hands on Dean’s life force.

He sighed. Madame Vastra had been right, of course – he’d known the second he looked into those sparkling green eyes for the first time that Dean Winchester was something very special indeed, and not just because of his expertise – which was indeed something for a creature with such an unfortunate small life span.

A part of him knew he shouldn’t have brought him here, knew that the temptation for Lilith had been too great. But then, she wasn’t the only one who had been tempted, was she?

He had long ago given up all work on the experiments they had once embarked on; one of the reasons had been that he would undoubtedly have run into Lilith again if he had persevered; another had been that the High Council had told him quite clearly that, if he wanted to live out his regenerations travelling around with Juliet and not in a prison cell on Gallifrey, that was the way to go; and the last one he had never admitted to anyone, had in fact barely allowed himself to think about –

The truth was that one day he had looked into a mirror, had realized what he was turning into, known that he would soon surpass Lilith and that he would then be able to control the universe as he liked –

And then, to his mortification, he had found that he had some form of moral backbone. He had always assumed he had no conscience, and now it had suddenly reared its ugly head.

And that very conscious made itself known once again as he thought of Dean in Lilith’s clutches. He had to get out and help him. If it wasn’t already too late.

“Actually you should be flattered” Lilith lectured him, “Not many get to understand the scientific breakthrough they are helping with their deaths.”

“Maybe if you didn’t kidnap children – that could help” Dean replied sarcastically, watching her work on several scientific instruments that seemed rather... benign. Not what he imagined at all.

She sighed. “I already explained – small wonder you and Crowley get along so well. He can be dense when he wants to be as well.”

That was one way he would never have chosen to describe him, he had to give her that.

“Funny. The only one dense I’ve seen since I set foot here is standing right in front of me.”

She slapped him across the face then, but he barely even flinched. If she seriously thought a punch to the face would silence him, she was wrong.

“Hm” she hummed appreciatively, “Seems like this is going to be even more fun than I thought.”

A weak spot. There had to be one. Lilith was never careful to ensure there wasn’t. And so Crowley began to look over the cell as carefully as he could.

An exact replica... Lilith would never manage to do that. Crowley knew she’d most likely have gotten distracted while working on his cell. And then, who said she created it for him, specifically? So far he’d made a conscious effort to get as far away from her as possible. He had long ago decided trying to stop her wasn’t worth the trouble.

And yet, here he was.

That speck of conscience was certainly annoying.

Alright. Concentrate on the task at hand, he told himself. After all, he had gotten away with a lot of things back at Gallifrey before the Council decided it was too dangerous to keep him around, so either going away or to jail it was.

There had to be a way out. There always was, unless he himself had designed the –

And then he realized. Of course Lilith would put him in a cell built after the plans he himself initially conceived, when they were still intent on ruling the universe together, or so he thought.

But then, he hadn’t been the strapping clever experienced Time Lord he was now back then, hadn’t he. For one, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d even been a he. Or had Lilith not been a she? It had all been so long ago.

Lilith had measured everything from his pulse to his temperature and Dean had come to the conclusion that her madness had at least some method in it.

Unlike Crowley’s, which seemed to be all over the map.

He knew which one he preferred.

“You are still not very scared. Pray, tell me, where does this trust in Crowley come from?”

He didn’t have an answer to that, just as she knew he wouldn’t.

Then again, whatever this... whatever he and Crowley were supposed to have after a day in which they had time-travelled, found a trap street, and finally ended up in the dungeon of a madwoman –

And why was he worrying about this now, anyway? He needed to escape.

In the end, it was his knowledge of quantum mechanics that helped him to his freedom. He was not in the least surprised when around the next corner he found Madame Vastra, Jenny and Strax, intent on rescuing him and Dean.

“She only had one snake pit” Strax informed him, sneering. “And not even a single trench filled with acid. This Time lady knows nothing about real –“

“Lilith has always been rather basic when it comes to the more rudimentary pieces of furniture” Crowley informed him courtly, deciding he didn’t have time for any of Strax’ insight on battle grounds. “We need to go!”

He never saw the looks Jenny and Madame Vastra shot each other.

Dean was an idiot. At least that’s the only conclusion he could come to, considering he hadn’t noticed she was already draining his life force away until he started to feel faint.

“Ah” Lilith said, “There it is.” She flashed him one of her dangerous smiles. “I have to say, you are exceeding even my wildest expectations. My first one was already gone at this point –“

“Glad to be of service – if I actually wanted to die” he muttered, spurring at her, but she only smiled wider.

He garnered his strength.

He would get out of here, if it was the last thing he did.

“But...”

“I said, we don’t have time –“

“That is hardly a reason to storm in without a plan” Madame Vastra hissed. “Normally you would be the first to point that out. Don’t make me and Jenny tie you up so you can’t do anything stupid.”

“You wouldn’t dare” he answered, clearly taken aback.

“Don’t tempt me, Crowley. You know Lilith better than anyone, and we need you to keep your head straight if you want to save your friend.”

If he thought anything about her use of the word friend, he didn’t say.

This was not as painful as Dean had thought it would be. He was simply growing weaker and weaker as time went on.

Granted, of course he was freaking out. He supposed he had the right – he was dying here, after all.

Sammy will never know what happened to me. The thought came unbidden and didn’t help in the least.

Until it did.

Because God damn this – Time Lady if Dean was going to allow her to get the best of him. He had not been born in Kansas in 1979 to work his way up to become a renowned professor to end up dying from something as impossible as the draining of life force by an alien in the year 1887, for God’s sake.

No. He would beat this.

Lilith gave a squeal. “I thought you were almost drained, but look at that! You are still fighting!”

Damn right I am, woman, and I am going to win this.

“What kind of protections would Lilith put up?” Jenny asked.

“Probably not much. She probably thinks her cells are impenetrable” Crowley answered.

“Seems like thinking too much of oneself is common among the people of Gallifrey” Madame Vastra remarked.

“I will have you know that I have no flaws, thank you. And Lilith was always considered something of an outlier.”

The look she shot him could at best be described as unimpressed.

At worst – well – he had more important things to think of.

“Dean is still alive” he said firmly. “His is one of the strongest life forces I have ever seen.”

“You wouldn’t have happened to scan it as soon as he entered your TARDIS, would you?”

“It’s Juliet” he said indignantly, mostly to hide that he had indeed done just that. Not to steal it or anything – but it was always good to be informed, wasn’t it?

What he hadn’t been prepared for, however, had been the sheer effect this life force could have when paired with a sparkling personality and amazing beauty.

Oh dear he had first thought of Dean’s personality and then his looks. He would almost have been inclined to think he was in trouble, if he’d had the time.

“Alright, here’s the plan –“

None of the gang seemed to be particularly in favour of it, but then – they didn’t have much choice.

Dean seriously hoped Crowley would show up soon. And that he would have a way to pump all that strength back into his muscles, because he didn’t think the alien was the heroically carrying people back to his ship type.

Juliet. Whatever. It wasn’t like Dean could object to her having a female name. Baby was still his pride and joy, after all.

He really hoped she wouldn’t be jealous because he had ridden in a time machine.

He blinked, realizing his thoughts were getting all jumbled up. Hell no. If he allowed that to happen, God alone knew if we wouldn’t just give up and die.

“That’s so much imagery!” Lilith exclaimed, looking at the machine he was rather sure all his life force was being drained into. “If I had known where to find you... Once I have dealt with my little problems here, I really have to travel around a bit. Why keep a low profile when I could have such rewards?” She looked at another instrument of hers. “You’re from Kansas, beginning of the 21st century, in fact. Still a little primitive to my liking, but –“

“You do realize you’re saying this in nineteenth-century London, right”? Dean bit back. Anger was useful; anger wasn’t giving up, and it wasn’t indifference. Sure, it took some of his energy, but that was still better than to just gently slip into that good night.

“Yes, but the Victorians were your ancestors in more ways than one.” She smiled.

“Please don’t start about how Jack the Ripper was a link between this and modern times...” Dean sighed. Being an expert of the Victorian era had sadly exposed him to his fair share of nut bags who thought the son of a bitch who would cut up defenceless women in one year’s time was some sort of harbinger of modern warfare.

Once, a student had tried that angle during a lecture of his. He’d quickly dressed him down.

“Please, of course not. I am just saying – the Victorians, for all their repression, don’t hide who they are. You don’t find violence displayed so openly on the streets in the twenty-first century.”

“And thank God for that.”

“Pah. I have never seen a point in hiding who I was.”

Now that,. Dean could easily believe. Otherwise she’d hardly have had to hide herself here.

“As opposed to your darling Crowley.”

He rolled his eyes.

“He wanted to do everything in secret, can you believe that? And all the other Time Lords... You wouldn’t believe how annoying they were.-“

“Because they didn’t want to burn the universe?”

“Because all they wanted to do was watch! Can you believe it? The whole of history art their fingertips, and they just wanted to watch!!!”

So that was her problem. And Dean could even understand it, a little. Who knew, if they had ended up in 1888 instead of 1887, he might have been busy trying to save Mary Kelly, despite all objections Crowley would undoubtedly have had.

“You really are an interesting specimen” she said leaning towards him again, “I would consider consider leaving you alive to study you some more, if I wasn’t busy –“

“Sorry Lilith, but that’s my human. Get your own.”

“Not anyone’s human” Dean mumbled before he realized that it was Crowley who had spoken which meant that Crowley was indeed here. And so where the others.

He was hoping that Strax would simply blast Lilith of the face of the earth when a crushing sound rang out and dust flew into his eyes.

When it all had settled, Lilith told him cheerfully, “Sorry you couldn’t see everything. Let’s just say, your three friends just fell down to the basement. They’ll need hours to work their way out of there... and then of course I’ll be waiting.”

“Simply but effective.”

Dean definitely didn’t like that Crowley sounded impressed.

“Thank you, Crowley.” She strolled up to him; her back was to Dean so he couldn’t see her expression, but he could see Crowley’s, and again – he didn’t care for it one bit. “You know, I have been thinking in the past few centuries...”

“Oh, has it really been that long? You can’t have passed more than one regeneration since our last meeting.”

Dean made a mental note to find out what the hell that so-called regeneration was once he got out of here.

She giggled. “I have to say, your current incarnation doesn’t disappoint, either.”

“I never said I was impressed with yours” he pointed out smugly, but it was all too much like flirting to put Dean at ease.

“Say, Crowley...” Lilith reached out and trailed her hand down his tie. “I will admit I have spent a considerable amount of time since our separation imagining how to kill you...”

“Must have been quite the pastime, we’re not easy to kill” Crowley said matter-of-factly and Dean couldn’t help but wonder whether this was a message for him – an explanation why he wasn’t currently strangling Lilith. Not that Dean condoned violence, but he’d rather not be entirely drained by her.

That reminded him... Ever since Crowley had shown up, Lilith had stopped handling the machine, and he already felt stronger again. Was that even possible? Maybe Crowley was trying to buy him some time...

“And I can also assure you” Crowley continued smoothly, “That I too have in fact fantasized about doing away with you.”

Lilith sighed. “Oh all these years... but you know, now that I’m looking at you... we were a good team, were we not?”

“Oh yes, I don’t think anyone on Gallifrey would have disputed that.”

“Our experiments were the stuff of legends.”

“I am rather sure they still are. You know how Time Lords like to gossip.”

Dean was pretty sure she was giving him a seductive smile. If only he could see – but then, Crowley didn’t even glance his way. He seemed to be completely focused on Lilith.

This could either be a good thing – or a pretty pretty bad thing. They had been together at one point, and Crowley had freely admitted that he had voluntarily undergone the experiments with her.

Dean decided he had enough. “Hey!” he complained. “I didn’t get dragged all the way too old-timey London to watch you two make out!”

Before he cold blink, Lilith had whirled around and punched him in the face before turning back to Crowley. “Now, where were we?”

“Careful” he warned her, “You don’t want to harm the specimen.”

The specimen? Dean really hoped he was only playing with her, but it was difficult to tell. And really, despite feeling like he did, he hadn’t even known Crowley for a week – how should he had been able to tell?

“You don’t have to worry, he’s remarkable, really. Kansas, that’s where you found him, right?”

Crowley nodded. “Of course I already knew his books.”

“Yes, he is smart for a human” she said. “Almost amazingly so. In fact, I just now had an idea...”

She was still – or again – playing with his tie.

“And his life force is already replenishing itself!” Lilith aid, pointing at another one of her instruments. “So I thought we could keep him around – for experiments, you know. And I won’t spoil his good looks – that’s what you like most about him, I expect.” She laughed, and Dean understood with the clarity born out of desperation that she had never seen anyone in her life as equal, not even Crowley. In Lilith’s eyes, she alone was a genius,. And everyone else mattered as little as a beetle a collector had pinned down with a needle.

And now, this whole thing with Crowley – it was just another whim of hers. But he couldn’t say if the Time Lord realized that as well.

“Crow –“

Another punch. “Silent, little specimen.”

Oh great, now he wasn’t even allowed to keep his own name?

“Do you think we should turn on the machine again? I think he’s getting too strong... he’s starting to annoy me.”

And somehow, in that moment, a decision was made. Dean would never know the particulars, and indeed he would eventually come to decided that he didn’t care to learn them; but somehow, Crowley suddenly shot him a glance and he knew exactly what was going to happen.

He froze, hoping that Lilith would mistake his reaction for fear.

She did.

“Let me just make sure he’s strapped in properly” Crowley said, smirking at her, “and then we can get back to your offer...”

“I knew you wouldn’t refuse.”

“I know better.”

He walked up to Dean and leaned down. “Are you ready?” he hissed.

“Yes” Dean answered.

And then everything happened very fast.

Dena hadn’t actually been sue that he would be able to stay on his feet, but thankfully he could; he learned that little fact as Crowley walked up to Lilith and suddenly grabbed her to shove her in the constraints that had held Dean and he dived to the side.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked.

“That’s always been your problem” he said casually, switching on the machine to drain her instead of another anonymous victim, “You only ever saw things from a scientific standpoint. You believe in rules and logic, and think they can never be beaten. You never believed anyone capable of change, Lilith.”

“You can’t –“

“Of course I can” he said smoothly. “Dean, we should probably get the others out of that hole. I activated the self destruction countdown –“

2You what? People actually have those?”

“Of course” he said as if that was normal.

Dean cursed. “We need to hurry!”

They left Lilith there without another glance.

If someone had asked him whether he believed they’d ever get out of there in time, Dean would have said no. But as it was, he, Crowley and the gang were standing in front of the trap street, slowly watching it burn down while not a single one of the passers bye even turned their heads in their direction.

“That was... unexpected” he finally managed to say.

“I have to agree, Professor Winchester” Madame Vastra answered.

“We could hear everything that was going on” Jenny added, “I thought for a second Crowley had decided to join Lilith after all.”

“Thank you for your trust” he replied sarcastically, but Dean saw guilt in his eyes and realized that he had indeed been tempted. He reached out and squeezed his arm.

“Well, all’s well that ends well, right?”

“I hardly think this is the end” Crowley said simply. “Lilith might have got away.”

So he had given her a chance, after all. Dean didn’t quite know how to feel about that. “Yeah, well... We got her this time, at least” he finally answered.

“So, you will be returning to your own time, I presume?” Madame Vastra arched an eyebrow. They’d invited Dean and Crowley back for tea at their place.

“Yeah” Dean said, but he wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic at the prospect as he happened to be.

“Pity” Jenny said, “You did great.”

“You might actually live through five minutes of battle against one of us” Strax said proudly. Dean assumed it was a compliment.

He shrugged. “Yeah, well...”

Crowley had gone off to look at the other paintings they kept in their house.

“It is indeed a pity” Madame Vastra echoed her wife without paying attention to Strax, “There are certain Time Lords who shouldn’t be travelling alone. I believe Crowley is one.”

Dean stared at her. “I can’t – my whole life is back in Kansas!”

“And here I thought” she replied calmly, “That a history professor would understand the purpose of a time machine.”

A little while later, they had returned to Juliet. She had hummed excitedly as they entered.

“Back to Kansas, then” Crowley said flatly. Dean couldn’t tell whether he was sorry to see him go or not.

And suddenly, he was equally as sure that if he was, he would never admit to what he perceived as a weakness.

And Dean thought of everything he had seen. Madame Vastra. Jenny. Strax. Abberline. Lilith. Almost dying. All in a few short hours.

And he made a decision.

“We could go the long way round, though, right?”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “The long way round?”

2Yeah. See the sights. I mean, I might be the first human history professor to set foot in a time machine – how can I pass that up? And of course someone needs to keep an eye on you... I’ll need more information, of course. That regeneration thing, for starters... And then I’m really only a newbie when it comes to time travel.”

Crowley slowly walked up to him, a smirk on his lips. “You think you could look after me?”

“Oh, I think I know how to take you” Dean said, moving closer as well. “Alien or not alien, in the end I know how to treat my men.”

“Are you –“

Dean grabbed his tie and dragged him into a kiss. “And?” he asked when they broke apart. “Ready for the next adventure?”

Crowley was grinning – slightly maniacally, really, but then, Dean suspected, so was he – “Oh darling, you have no idea.”

Juliet hummed and took off.

#spn #my writings #doctor who #drowley #dean winchester #crowley

29 notes · View notes