Chapter Text
Sam was seven the first time he saw the blue box. It spun through the sky, just lighter than the swath of indigo above him, but gone before he could blink. He wrote it off as a shooting star distorted by his lack of sleep and proceeded to erase it from his thoughts.
He was nine when it appeared again. But this time, instead of blinking out of sight into the midnight sky, it parked. Beside their car, where Sam was to wait while Dad and Dean went off to talk to a witness. Sam was convinced he was hallucinating, or something was playing a trick, and just as he was about to shout for his father, the tall, oddly dressed man stepped out of the door, looking just as bewildered as Sam felt.
“Hello! Who are you? And what day is it?” Sam just stared. He wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers, and he had a feeling Dad would throw a fit over this one especially. But he just couldn’t help it.
“I’m… I’m Sam and it’s Wednesday.”
“Yes, but what year?”
“…It’s 1992.”
“1992, you say? Odd, not what I was aiming for, my ship seems to have different ideas however; Sam, you said? How old are you, Sam? You don’t look very scared.”
Sam’s chin jerked up defiantly, hair falling in his eyes a little, trying for Dean’s ain’t-scared-of-nothin’ face, but failing to look any kind of intimidating.
“I’ve seen scarier things than you.”
The man looked only interested, if not slightly amused. He ran a finger over his bowtie (and Sam couldn’t help but wonder who the hell wore a bowtie) for a moment before leaning down to look at Sam more closely.
“Have you now? Tell me Sam, what have you seen?”
“You wouldn’t believe me. Nobody ever does.” Sam sighed a little, sliding down on the side of the car, arms crossing stubbornly over his chest.
“Oh, I bet I would. I believe everybody.”
“That’s stupid. People lie.”
“Not as many as you might think.” Sam’s eyes narrowed before he looked behind the man, glancing over the tall blue box.
“What’s that?”
“You wouldn’t believe me. Nobody ever does.”
“I’d believe you.” He retorted, the edge of a smirk against his mouth despite his attempt at a straight face. The tall man grinned a little and leaned towards him, whispering conspiratorially in his ear.
“It’s a time machine. I can take you anywhere you want to go.”
Something in Sam perked up, listening harder. Anywhere. Sam could escape. He could be normal. But as much as Sam wanted that, this man couldn’t possibly be telling the truth. And besides, that would mean leaving Dean, and that thought put all others out of his mind. Sam huffed, pushing the man back with a small hand, glaring up at him.
“You’re lying.”
“No I’m not!” He exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest like an upset child. “I’ll prove it! Just give me…” he checked his watch quickly, “five minutes and I’ll prove it to you. Trust me. I’m the Doctor.” And before Sam could protest, the man had slid back into his blue box and it was disappearing before his very eyes.
The Doctor never came back.