This first chapter is really a written version of where each segment from each show starts from for my story.
Doctor Who - beginning of Season 5
Supernatural - end of Season 7
Sherlock - almost end of Season 1
The crack extended across her whole wall.
A jagged, ugly line that smelled dangerous and impossible even as the strange man traced his finger across it. I suppose that’s why he was so attracted to it.
He eyed the little Scottish girl who was sitting perched on her bed, the little girl who had let in the weird man from the blue box which had fallen from the sky into her garden and fed him fish custard but was scared of this crack.
“Do you know what this is?” He asked her, a small frown creasing his face.
“No, what?” She said, her voice solid and brave and already The Doctor was enamoured with this little girl.
He grinned, “This is a crack.” The girl’s eyebrows rose and she opened her mouth to say something but The Doctor carried on, beginning to catch onto an idea.
“And you know what? If you knocked down this wall, this crack would stay here because this crack isn’t in the wall. It’s in everything and it’s everywhere, joining parts of space and time that should never touch.” The Doctor bent slightly, trying to see more closely inside the crack but there was only darkness there, an eerie silent blackness that he couldn’t decipher anything about.
“What does that mean? Can you fix it?” Amelia had got off her bed, was tugging The Doctor away as she whispered her questions as if she were worried something was listening. The Doctor peered round, maybe this new him was paranoid but he did suddenly feel watched.
“You know when grown-ups tell you everything's fine and you think they're probably lying to make you feel better.” For an instant, everything about The Doctor was serious, his entire focus seemingly on Amelia who nodded, dazed at the sudden change in mood.
“Everything’s going to be fine.” The Doctor beamed deliriously and quickly hurried down the stairs and out the house, Amelia in tow. They ran to his fallen blue box where The Doctor dropped to Amelia’s height, his hands gripping her shoulders comfortingly.
“Give me five minutes. I’ll be right back.” He smiled, ruffling her ginger locks. But she looked worried.
“You won’t be back.” She looked at his blue box then back at him. She looked sad as she observed him, and he no longer felt like he was talking to a small 10 year old.
“I will. Never underestimate what a man with a big chin can do.” Amelia fiercely locked eyes with him, searching for something. Slowly she smiled, holding out a hand.
“You promise?” The Doctor laughed, wrapping the girl in his arms for a brief hug before jumping to his feet.
“I promise. Five minutes.” He shook her hand when she persisted in holding it out and then he was grabbing onto a long rope and abseiling down into the box. Amelia watched until the blue box was disappearing, making the same wheezing noise it had made when it arrived and then she was running back to the house where she would pack a big suitcase, tow it outside and sit and wait all night.
“You understand I don’t participate in aggressive activity.” Castiel raised his hands, keeping his eyes on Dean as he walked to the other side of the room to inspect their collection. He sniffed the bone, smiling at the righteous essence of it. “Mm, Sister Mary Constant, good choice.”
Dean took a deep breath, trying to think of anything but how this wasn’t his Cas anymore. He didn’t even look the same, no more scruffy, almost undone tie or black suit under his trenchcoat. Just those white scrubs that reminded him of what he had done to this poor son of a bitch.
“What did you do to Meg, Cas?”
“When I left I wanted to observe the flowers – and fruit – flowers come first obviously, but I heard nothing from them.” Cas’s gaze flickered as he went from looking to Dean to the ceiling, the floor, his coat and then back to Dean, his voice thoughtful.
Sam shook his head slightly, still getting used to this new Castiel. “Heard nothing from who?”
“The garrison.” That caused Dean and Sam to share an alarmed expression as the same thought crossed their mind.
“What happened to the garrison?” Sam questioned Castiel, his shoulders slumping as he anticipated the bad news.
“Well finally the silence was deafening so I went to look at the home of the prophet,” Cas walked back down, towards Sam and Dean. “You know Leviathan can kill angels, it’s the reason my Father locked them in purgatory, they’re the piranha that would eat the whole aquarium, ” Cas walked back up, away from them again, unable to keep still. “They’re gone. The entire garrison, dead. If there’s anyone left at all, they’re in hiding.”
“Um, I’m sorry, the angels are dead… where’s Kevin?” Dean stepped forward.
“I could steal them from their cages, the monkeys, but where would I put them all-“
“Hey! Focus! Is Kevin alive?” Dean shouted, his frustration overwhelming him.
“I don’t want to fight!” Castiel avoided Dean’s gaze then looked up, looking fragile and guilty and Dean bit his tongue, knowing that they needed Cas. It would not be good to scare him away.
“No, I’m not –“ Dean looked to Sam, then licked his lips, taking a breath to calm himself before he carried on. “We’re worried.”
Cas nodded, regaining himself for a moment. “They took him. He’s alive.” He sighed, “I felt such responsibility but it’s in your hands now-“
“Hold on a freaking minute.” Dean exclaimed, taken aback.
“I feel much better.”
“Hey guys, what’s all that?” Meg had turned to look at the basket of matches and candles and chalk.
“We called Crowley.” A look of guilt flickered over Sam’s face.
Meg looked sick. “You what?”
“Don’t worry, he never showed.” Dean growled, annoyed at the interruption.
“What do you mean he never –“
“You see him anywhere? He stood us up.” Dean spread his arms, impatience wearing him thin.
“Well, I’m sorry about that but I’m outy, he could still show-“ Meg edged for the door.
“Show up at any time.” Crowley finished her sentence, appearing from nowhere, his voice turning smug as he glanced round the room. His eyes finally landed on the Winchesters.
“Hello boys, sorry I’m late. This is an embarrassment of riches.” Crowley smirked.
“Stay, won’t you? There’s really nowhere to run.” Crowley turned his attention to Meg who had frozen at his appearance but now seemed to regain control of her body and did exactly that, sprinting for the door.
Crowley appeared in front of her exit, his finger raised as if addressing a child. “Don’t even think of smoking out, pussycat, I got eyes all over the place.”
“Leave her be.” Castiel walked forward, worried for his friend. He had grown to like Meg.
Crowley’s eyes flickered to him, apparently happy Meg wasn’t going anywhere, he stalked closer.
“Castiel, the last we spoke you, well, enslaved me.” Crowley looked dangerously angry. “I’m confused, why aren’t you dead?”
“I don’t know.” Cas hesitantly replied.
“Well, do you want to be? Cause I can help with that!” Crowley’s voice raised.
“Alright, enough!” Dean stopped Crowley, still in shock that this was happening.
“It’s enough when I say, I came here to help you and find out you’ve been lying to me, harbouring an angel and not just any angel, the one angel I most want to crush between my teeth!”
“Oh, right. You can crush angels now, can you?” Meg sneered from behind him.
“You bore me, you know that, you have no sense of poetry.” Crowley retorted, not bothering to look at her. “Now what do you have to say for yourself?”
Dean rolled his eyes, waiting for whatever mad response Castiel would say next. “Still honing my communication strategy. I haven’t even been back to Heaven, I keep thinking there are no insects up there but down here we have trillions, busy making honey and silk and miracles really.” Dean raised his eyebrows at Crowley, biting his cheek. Well done, Cas.
Crowley cocked his head, suspicion and confusion raging across his face. “What are you talking about?”
“Um, preferring insects to angels I guess. I can offer you a token if you like,” Cas took a sandwich bag out of his pocket, filled with golden syrup.
“Its honey, I collected it myself.” Cas looked at Crowley hopefully, he just looked at Dean, uncomprehending.
Dean shrugged. “You’re off your rocker.”
Crowley murmured, Cas turned away, his plight unsuccessful. “He’s off his rocker, is that it?” He chuckled humourlessly, “Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?” he said, picking up a glass of whiskey.
“Did you come here to donkey-punch your old grudges or to help us end dick? Pick a battle!” Dean finally ended the little discussion, getting back to what they all needed to do.
“Well, I’m vexed, I’d like to do both! But where’s the fun in clobbering a ball of wet fur?’ He put down the whiskey, looking subdued at Cas’ shocked expression.
“Text me when sparkles here receives his marbles, I suppose. Meanwhile, a pressie.” Crowley pulled out a vial of blood, throwing it to Sam who deftly caught it.
“Really, boxed up and ready to go?” Sam asked, suspicious to say the least. The King of Hell wasn’t usually such a good negotiator.
“I’m a model of efficiency.”
“Is that so? Then why are you late?” Sam pressed, knowing that something was wrong.
“Dick kept me in a Devil’s Trap. He’s not an idiot, he knows what you two are after.”
“So what did he offer you?”
“A fair deal in exchange for giving you the wrong blood. It’s demon but is it mine?” Crowley laughed, enjoying the distrustful looks on their faces. “Don’t worry, it’s mine.”
“Why should we trust you?”
“Oh, God. Don’t! I learnt that from my last business partner.” Crowley eyed Castiel.
He turned, smiled wanly at Meg, saying as a last goodbye “oh, and Meg, I’m gonna scoop you up, take you home and roast you till you’re jerky once that bone is in Dick’s heart.”
And then he was gone and the Winchesters had all the ingredients to kill the Leviathan once and for all.
The swimming pool was quiet except for the lapping of water and the sound of his footsteps. There was no sign of a criminal mastermind but he was confident he was listening, wherever he was. He twisted on the spot, inspecting his surroundings.
“Brought you a little getting to know you present.” He lifted his hand, holding up a memory stick.
“This is what it’s all been for, isn’t it? All your little puzzles, making me dance, all to distract me from this.”
He turned sharply as a door creaked open behind him.
“Evening.” John greeted him, dressed in a huge coat several sizes too big for him. “This is a turn up, isn’t it, Sherlock?”
“John, what the hell-“ Sherlock, in one of those rare moments, was caught off guard, still digesting what his friend was doing here. Suspicions arose in his head, thoughts of betrayal that his mind was already becoming numb to.
“I bet you never saw this coming.” John unzipped his coat, revealing wires attached to a plethora of explosives across his chest. “What would you like me to make him say next?”
Sherlock moved closer. “Gottle le Gier.”
“Gottle le Gier.” John repeated.
“Nice touch this, the pool where little Karl died. I stopped him; I can stop John Watson too.” John gulped, fear etched into his skin.
A red dot caressed the centre of his chest. “Stop his heart.” John said.
“Who are you?” Sherlock spun round, waiting for the man to come out.
“I gave you my number!” A whiny voice called, reminding him of someone. “I thought you might call, is that a British Army Browning L9A1in your pocket... or are you just pleased to see me?” A man in a neat, expensive suit waved casually from the other side of the pool.
Sherlock smiled, finally getting somewhere. “Both.” He pulled out the gun, aiming for his head.
“Jim Moriarty. Hi!” Jim introduced himself, seeming nonplussed about the gun aimed at his face. He strode closer, his footsteps loud in the quiet.
“Jim? Jim from the hospital?” Sherlock gripped his gun tighter as Moriarty moved closer.
“Oh, did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then I suppose, that was rather the point.”
The red dot moved from John’s chest and up to his forehead, John frowning at Sherlock. Sherlock gave the dot a filthy glare.
“Don’t be silly, someone else is holding the rifle, I don’t like getting my hands dirty. I’ve given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I’ve got going on out there in the big, bad world. I’m a specialist, you see, like you.” Moriarty gestured to Sherlock, laidback as if they were discussing the similarities between two characters.
“Dear Jim, will you fix it for me to get rid of my lovers nasty sister?” Sherlock growled.
“Just so.” Moriarty grinned, looking rather pleased.
“Consulting criminal, brilliant.” A hint of admiration entered Sherlock’s tone but his gun remained put on Moriarty’s head.
“Isn’t it?” Moriarty shook his head, pride evident in his voice. John looked up at Sherlock, wondering just how long this would go on for.
“No one gets to me.” Moriarty smirked. “And no-one ever will.”
Sherlock cocked his gun. “I did.”
“You’ve come the closest,” Jim still didn’t react to having a gun seconds from blasting his face off.
“Now you’re in my way.” Jim scowled.
“Didn’t mean it as a compliment.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Yeah, okay, I did.” Moriarty shrugged, “but the show’s over, Sherlock, daddy’s had enough now.” He sang. “I’ve shown you what I can do, I cut loose all those people, all those little problems, even 30 million quid just to get you to come out and play. So take this as a friendly warning, my dear. Back off. Although I have loved this. This little game of ours. Playing Jim from IT, playing gay, did you like the little touch with the underwear?”
John shivered, watching the little red dot move over him, hearing Moriarty talk about people’s deaths as a game.
“People have died.” Sherlock said, deadpan.
“That’s what people DO.” Moriarty shouted.
“I will stop you.” Sherlock murmured.
“No, you won’t.” Moriarty shook his head, confident.
Moriarty crept a little closer, leaning in beside John. “You can talk Johnny Boy, go ahead.”
John nodded at Sherlock, silent communication ran between them.
“Take it.” Sherlock held out the memory stick.
“Huh? Oh. That. Missile plan.” Moriarty kissed it as he took it from Sherlock then smiled, lifting his eyes to Sherlock’s. The gun just centimetres from his face. “Boring. I could’ve got them anywhere.”
He pulled a shocked face, throwing the plans into the water.
In that moment John leapt on him, grabbing him so he couldn’t escape.
“Good! Very good.” Moriarty crowed.
“If your sniper pulls that trigger, we both go up.” John hissed.
“Isn’t he sweet? I can see why you like having him around, but then people do get so sentimental about their pets. So touchingly loyal.” Moriarty leered then watched coyly as the red dot moved to Sherlock’s head. Bright red on his pale skin.
“Gotcha.” John went still, releasing Moriarty as Sherlock watched the dot.
“Westwood.” Moriarty swept his suit off. “Do you know what happens if you don’t leave me alone, Sherlock? Do you?”
“Oh, let me guess, I get killed.”
“Kill you?” Moriarty winced, “no, don’t be obvious, I mean I’m gonna kill you anyway someday, I don’t wanna rush it though. I’m saving it up for something special, no, no, no. If you don’t stop prying, I’ll burn you, I’ll burn the heart out of you.”
“I’ve been reliably informed that I don’t have one.” Sherlock replied, grimly.
“We both know that’s not quite true.” Moriarty smiled to himself then quickly shrugged. “Well, I betta be off. So nice to have a proper chat.”
“What if I was to shoot you right now?” Sherlock raised the gun a bit higher, emphasizing his point.
“Well, then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face.” Moriarty did an effective imitation of surprise. “Cause I’d be surprised, Sherlock, really I would and just a teensy bit disappointed. But then you wouldn’t be able to cherish it for very long. Chow, Sherlock Holmes.”
Moriarty walked away, Sherlock’s gun kept trained on him. “Catch. You. Later.”
“No, you won’t!” Moriarty sang back, and then he was gone.
Dean peered past the window and into the laboratory, eyeing the Dick Roman that was inspecting a yoghurt. He motioned for Cas to look, wondering how many more Dicks they’d have to check after this, how many had he made? Cas looked back, eyes shining victoriously. He nodded. It was time.
“You know this might end up the slickest little genocide in history.” Dick admired the yoghurt, thinking of how brilliantly things were really working out. Those hunters, demons and vampires were out of the way and everything was going according to plan.
“Thank you, sir.” A plain man in a white overall coat was packing things away into a cardboard box.
“Just saying, I smell promotion.” Dick drank the yoghurt thing, turning away from Plain Man.
That’s when Dean cut off Plain Man’s head.
Black blood oozed onto the floor, his body acting as a border between Dean, Cas and Dick.
“A little abrupt, but okay.” Dick raised his eyebrows, smiling, turning to face them. “Castiel, good to see you again, thanks for the ride into paradise.”
Dean pulled out the blood soaked bone, thinking of how much he was going to enjoy killing this monster.
“Good on you, pulling that together.” Dick praised him, annoyingly smug.
“Well, you don’t think this will work, do you? You trust that demon?” Dean walked closer, stepping over the body and right into Dick’s personal space.
“You sure I’m even me, Dean?” Dick asked, not backing away.
“No,” Dean shook his head, “but he is.” Dean gestured to Castiel, confident Cas was right.
“So, here’s the thing when dealing with Crowley. He will always find a way to bone you.” Dean waved the bone in front of Dick’s face.
“This meetings over.” Dick stepped forward; about to finish Dean once and for all but Castiel pushed Dean behind him, getting tossed behind Dick in the process, crashing into the wall.
That was when Dean pushed the bone into Dick’s heart.
Dean backed away, expecting something. Dick pulled it out, snapping it in half. “Did you really think you could trump me?”
“Honestly, no.” Castiel grabbed the back of Dick’s head, pulling it back in time for Dean to stick the real bone through Dick’s throat. Dick screamed, or more like gargled.
Sam burst through the door, prophet in tow, staying back as Dick’s head suddenly exploded with in a mesh of teeth to become the huge mouth of the Leviathans.
“Thought we had to catch you off guard.”
Black blood trickled down Dick’s face, the air burst around him in short waves, speeding up and surrounding Dean and Cas and then all at once it was forced back into Dick and there was an eruption of black ooze.
And when Sam looked back, all three were gone.