SoaM - Prologue - SuperWhoLock

Something of a Mystery
Prologue: Something of a Cybernetic Mishap
Warning: Very frequent hints at various stages of boy love.  Also, warnings for Jack.
Rating: T, to be safe

It was the only visible shelter they could find, so when the boys stumbled across a blue "police box" (did those things really exist? Dean would wonder later), they scrambled inside and slammed the door behind them, latching it shut.  Silence descended, as if the ghoul chasing them had lost track of them.

"Sam," Dean hissed, staring into the room.

Sam, trying to peer through the 'window' on the door, frowned.  "Not now, Dean," he snapped, shrugging off his brother's tugging hand.  "I think we may have lost her, but we'll have to move on sometime-"

"Saaaammm," Dean whined.

"Not now, Dean," Sam repeated distractedly.  "For now I think we can catch our breath and-"

"Saammyyy, it's bigger on the inside!" Dean said, voice unusually high with near-hysteria.

"What the hell," Sam growled, whipping around, "Are you talking... about...  Oh good god."

xXx

Twelve hours previously...

Dean was just waking up when his cell phone went off, and with a groan, he slapped at the bedside table where it lay.  It slid off with his hand and clattered to the carpet, and he cursed under his breath.  He opened one eye and blearily peered over the bed, spotted it and retrieved it.  Hitting send, he pressed it to his ear.  "Hello?"

"I have a job for you boys, it looks like," Bobby said on the other end.

"A job?" Dean asked through a yawn.  He forced himself to sit up, stretching one arm over his head.

"Yeah.  Murders.  Seven of 'em.  In Lawton, Oklahoma."

"Murders.  Lawton.  Got it."  Pause.  "And this has anything to do with us because...?"

"They were all eaten."

"Oh, yeah, that would do it," Dean said, swinging his legs over the side of his bed.  He glanced over to the other bed where Sam was crashed and threw a pillow at him.  "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, it's time for work."  He turned his attention back to Bobby as Sam thudded to the floor and cursed under his breath.  "So how you know this isn't some sorta sick cannibal?"

"I don't.  But that's why you guys are going to check it out.  You're still in Texas, right?"

"Yup.  Crashed in 'Kilgore Community Inn'.  Did you know that they have giant metal oil rigs here?  Like, fucking huge!  Three stories easily.  And these things have Christmas lighted stars on top of them, too!"  He grinned.

"... I don't care.  Just get to work," Bobby said, and hung up.  "Idjit," he added under his breath.

xXx

Lawton, Oklahoma, 5:33 PM, October 3rd (Six hours later)

Dean and Sam were doing their usual thing, suited up with FBI badges and nice shoes.  They walked into the local sheriff's office and up to the counter, pausing to give the man standing there cursory looks.  Sam managed to catch the tail-end of what he was saying.

"-would like to examine the bodies, since that's my job and all."  He had a very heavy British accent and Sam was hard-pressed to believe he was American at all.  The man held up a leather wallet-like thing with a blank piece of paper inside to show the man behind the desk.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Smith.  Of course," the man said and looked at Sam and Dean.  "Can I help you gentlemen?"

Dean offered him a smile, glancing curiously at the man's paper.  "Yeah," he said, pulling out his FBI badge.  "I'm Sean Micheals and this is my partner Eric Tristan.  We're from the FBI.  We received a report of multiple cannibal attacks?"

The man took their badges and examined them a beat before handing them back and nodding.  "Seems you're all here for the same reason.  Yes, eight bodies have been found-"

"Eight?" Sam asked, ignoring the Brit to quirk a brow at the officer.  "Our report says seven."

"Another was found this morning."  The man sighed.  "You can just go through those doors and speak with Larry.  He'll show you to the coroner's office."

They stepped away and Dean held out his hand for the Brit.  "Smith, was it?"

"Yes, John Smith, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Micheals," the man said with a quick smile.  "Interpol," he flashed the blank paper and Dean seemed to accept it.  "You see, we've been having similar cases in England and I was sent over to check it out, see if there's any connection, that sorta thing."

"Aah, yeah, makes sense," Dean said with a smile.  "Well, how about you join us, then?  Since we're all going to the same place and all."

"It would be my pleasure!" Smith replied.

"Uh... Sean?  A word, please?" Sam said, and dragged his brother away from the Brit before Dean could reply.  "What are you doing?"

"What?  He's Interpol!  I saw his badge.  If we don't let him come with, he could get suspicious," Dean explained reasonably.

"Dean, he flashed you and the officer a blank piece of paper," Sam said.  "That's hardly a 'badge'."

Dean snorted.  "Did not.  It said 'John Smith, International Police' and had all his information on it," he said.

Sam gave him a look.  "Have you been smoking?" he demanded.  "Trust me, Dean, it was blank-"

"Sorry to interrupt, gents, but we should probably go examine the bodies, yeah?"  Smith beamed at them, suddenly standing less than a foot away.

Dean jumped.  "Geez!  Where'd you come from?!"

The man blinked.  "A galaxy far far away," he replied, straight-faced.

Sam wasn't so sure it was a joke.

Dean smirked.  "Good one.  You've seen Star Wars?" he asked, leading the way and ignoring his brother's irritated frown.

"Seventy three times," Smith replied.  "Very inventive.  Never gets old."

"Yeah?  Who's your favorite?"

"Jar Jar Binks," Smith replied promptly.  "Reminds me of an old friend of mine.  Except my friend's ears were... uh, shorter."  He chuckled.

Dean grinned outright as they stepped into a hallway.  He glanced at the doors and found 'Larry Goode'.  "Must be a good guy," he commented and knocked on the door.

Smith smothered a laugh.  "I bet he is."

Sam rolled his eyes and knocked again.  No answer.  Cautiously, he tried the handle.  It was locked.

"Can I help you?"

They turned to see a tall man with a sallow complexion, wearing the uniform of the place.  He had short cut salt-and-pepper hair and large green eyes speckled with blue and brown.  The bridge of his nose had hollows in the sides of it, as if he wore glasses often, but said glasses were nowhere in sight at the moment.  His shoes were brown.

"Ah, I'm John Smith, from Interpol, here to see the cannibal bodies?" Smith said, pulling out his 'badge' and showing the man.

"And I'm Sean Micheals, and this is my partner Eric Tristan," Dean added, offering his badge as Sam held up his.

The man barely glanced at any of them.  "Fine, follow me," he said, frowning.  "I'm Larry Goode."

Dean and Smith smirked at each other behind his back, earning a reproving glare from Sam.  Meanwhile, Goode was still talking, filling them in.

"They were found all over town, in different areas with different ethnicities, nothing tying them together except one thing."

"Which is?" Sam prompted.

The officer shoved open one side of a set of white double doors.  He frowned at Sam.  "That every one of them was eaten alive," he said.  "I mean that literally.  Our autopsies show that each victim was alive when our cannibal started in on them."

Dean winced.  "Ouch.  Geez, that's awful."

Smith was frowning.  "Bloody hell..."

"There was nothing else at all in common?" Sam asked as the man lead them to a wall covered in metal drawers and started pulling them open one at a time.

Dean grimace.  "Uck."

"Decay," Smith commented.

It took several minutes, but finally all three had checked over the bodies and excused themselves.  Smith smiled and held out his hand at the door, holding a card.  "It was nice to meet you both.  Now I have to get going... If you find anything that could possibly link the cases, gimme a call?"

Dean held up the card after shaking Smith's hand.  "Will do," he said as Sam took the proffered hand.  "Uh... just to be certain... can I see that badge of your's again?"

"Sure," Smith said.  He pulled out his badge and held it up.

Dean examined it for a moment, then pointed and frowned at Sam.  "See?"

"... no, I don't," Sam retorted, annoyed.

"Pardon?" the man said.

"Nothing, Mr. Smith," Dean replied and grabbed his brother's arm.  "My partner's just a little cranky."  He leaned over and stage-whispered, "I think it's that time of the month."

Smith smiled.  "Alright," he said, turning to go out the door.  He paused, blinking.  "Ohhh, myyyy..."

Dean looked.  And nearly face palmed.  Cas stood just outside the door, staring back in at them with narrowed eyes.  "That's uh... that's our other colleague, Manny.  Sorry, Mr. Smith.  We gotta jet."  He waved, vaguely hearing Smith's reply as they went out the door.

"... no problem at all..."

Cas frowned at them as they came out.  "I have been searching for you.  Bobby informed me I would find you here, but it has taken me several hours to track you down."

"We just got in town a half hour ago," Dean replied.  "Unlike you, we don't have the wonderful power of teleportation."

"I see..."

"Oy!"

They turned, halfway to the car, to find Smith running to catch up with them.  He was staring at Cas, eyes sweeping out to either side of the angel in apparent awe.  "What is it?" Cas asked tersely, frowning and glancing self-consciously behind him.

Smith just gave them a broad grin.  "Nothin'.  It's just that... you're gorgeous!"  With that, he waved and walked off, going around the side of the building.

It took .3 seconds for Dean to burst out into loud laughter.  "Dude!  I think Cas just got hit on by his first gay man!"

Cas looked like he wasn't sure how to respond to that, which is why it was probably a good thing that Smith was already gone.

Sam heaved a sigh, frowning.  Something about that man left him unsettled.  "C'mon.  Cas, what did you need to talk to us about?"

"I was going to help you," Cas said, frowning faintly.  "I believe these may be-"

"Ghouls?" the brothers chorused.  "Yeah, we thought so too," Dean finished and shrugged.  "C'mon."

Cas vanished.  Sam rolled his eyes and glanced around to make sure no one had seen.  "Alright."

xXx

They checked out the places that each of the victims lived in, finding that all of them, except the third and fourth victim, lived in small apartments either alone or that their roommates (or sister, in one case) had not been home at the time.  The third and fourth victim were married and living in their first apartment since the wedding.

It was at their apartment, incidentally the last one they checked, that the brothers struck gold.  "Whaddya make of it?"

"Definitely an ear, and I believe both of our victims had both each," Dean answered his brother, crouching.

"It looks like the second victim's," mused Cas, eying the ear on the table (it had been under the dresser in the bedroom, where the murders took place).

"Scenario time!" Dean said.  He loved doing this part.  "Okay, so the wife was killed first.  Say she was home alone and the ghoul targeted her, but the husband comes home from where ever he was at, sees what's happening and tries to defend her.  He tears off the ghoul's ear in the struggle before the ghoul stabs him in the gut and proceeds to... well, you know," he ended lamely.

But Sam was nodding.  "Yeah, seems like it.  But how are we gonna find the ghoul?"

"Start with how the ghoul got in," Dean replied promptly.  "Last one used the vents and sewer system, right?  Let's try that first."

Cas vanished.  Sam shrugged.  "Alright."

They searched the house and eventually ended up in the basement, where an old rusty grate lead into the sewers.  "Well, we've found our entrance," Dean said, and tugged on the bars.  They quickly gave way and he tossed them aside with a loud clatter.

The two made their way inside, soon running into Cas, who was frowning and peering around a corner.  "Cas?"  Dean peeked around said corner and frowned.  There it was.  The ghoul, in the form of the eighth victim.  "Got 'im."

"Them," Cas said.  "There are several."

"Yes, and we're about to feast!" a voice cackled behind them.

Dean swore and exchanged looks with Sam.  "Run!"

"I'll hold them off!" Cas called after them as they darted away.

Thus ensued a chase from not one, but five ghouls.  Castiel was nowhere in sight when they reached the street and dashed along.  The ghouls were catching up when they saw a blue box of some sort, and since they weren't in sight that moment, the brothers dashed into the box to hide in hopes of not being found.

"Oh good god."

"Not exactly!" a voice chirped from somewhere inside the vast space of jumbled wires and tubing, knobs and piles of buttons and levers.  From a hall to their left, a familiar face appeared.  "Oh, well hallo!  Welcome to my TARDIS... though I've not the faintest why she let you in.  Maybe she likes you."

Dean pointed.  "Why... why is... is..."

"... yes?  Come on, I thought you had more wit than that," Smith said reprovingly.  "Well, anyway, doesn't matter.  You two look outta breath?"

Sam stared at him suspiciously, but before he could answer, Cas appeared right beside Smith and swayed on his feet.  "That was... more impossible than I'd thought," he said, and collapsed.

Smith barely managed to catch him, sinking to his knees beside the weak angel.  "Ah ah ah," he tutted.  "None of that, c'mon, let's get you to a place where you can lay down."

Cas tried to shove him away, with surprisingly little success.  "No, must... not ghouls..."

"Well of course they're not ghouls," Smith chided.  "Ghouls?  Really?  You thought they were ghouls?!"

"Who are you?" Sam asked.  "First you flash around a blank paper like it says something – and somehow manage to convince people that it does – and then you suddenly sound like you know what ghouls are?"

Smith blinked at him.  Then his expression suddenly lit with understanding.  "Ooooh, okay, I got it.  That was the psychic paper.  It's slightly psychic paper, shows people whatever I want them to see or what they want to see, depending on the situation.  Apparently you're more than slightly psychic, which is why it didn't work on you.  That happens sometimes, with some people.  By the way, angel?"  He pointed at Cas.  "Care to help me with him?"

Dean nodded, getting up and going over.  They were gone long enough for Sam to examine the main room curiously, and then they were back, Dean looking utterly baffled and Smith talking ninety miles a minute.  "Alright!" he said, and stopped for a breath.  "Let's start over!  I'm the Doctor."  He held his hand out to Dean.

Dean took it.  "Dean Winchester."

Sam waved.  "Sam Winchester."

"Brothers?" the Doctor asked.

"Yep," Dean said.

"Cool."  The Doctor clapped his hands.  "Now, those things you thought were ghouls?  They're actually cyborgs created to replicate ghouls.  It was an experiment gone wrong, that I unfortunately have to fix.  Care to help?"

Dean nodded.  "Uh, sure, but... how do we kill them?"

The Doctor gave him a look.  "One, 'kill' is a very bad word.  Two, the same way you'd kill a regular ghoul, I guess."

"You guess?" Sam asked, frowning.  "You don't know."

"Ah... no.  Well, I know the theory.  Well, actually, I read the notes on the theory, but not the theory itself... Sort of.  But I'm pretty sure," the Doctor said.

"Pretty sure?" Dean echoed.

"Well, mostly sure."  He ran a hand sheepishly through his messy brown hair.  "In a way, sort of."

Sam sighed.  "Amateur," he muttered.

The Doctor pouted.  "Am not!  I happen to be the most brilliant – not to mention sexy – man you'll ever meet!"

Dean and Sam exchanged a loaded look.  "Okay," Dean muttered.  "To the batmobile!"

"Did you just call the Impala a batmobile?  Really?" Sam asked, staring at him.

"Shut it, bitch."

"You shut it, jerk."

They shook their heads and walked to the door, ready to return to the lion's den.  Behind them, the Doctor smiled.  He was going to like these two, he just knew it.

xXx

Blue eyes blinked open, staring up into a human face, complete with cocky grin.  "Hello, there... Anyone ever tell you you've got amazing eyes?"

Castiel blinked.  "I know my eyesight is fine," he said blankly.  "I am an angel."

"I'll say," the man said, smirking.  "Quite the angel."

Confused, Castiel sat up and eyed the man.  "... Yes.  I am an angel of the lord.  You are not surprised."

"Honestly?  I thought you were joking.  But nothing surprises me much these days," the man replied and smirked, holding out his hand.  "The name's Jack Harkness.  Nice to meet you."

Castiel knew this one.  Dean did it sometimes, when he was talking to other humans.  He reached out and shook the man's hand.  However, the man then did something Cas wasn't familiar with.  He didn't release him.  Instead, he turned Cas' hand over and ran his fingers over the skin, smiling slightly.  "Such soft hands…  Do you use lotion?" he asked.

"No," Castiel replied.  "Where are Dean and Sam Winchester?"  He pulled his hand away and got to his feet, much to Jack's disappointment.

"Sorry, who?" the man asked, also getting up.  "I don't know those names, but maybe if you have a picture of them or-"

Castiel reached out and tapped Jack's head with two fingers.  Jack flinched, taking two steps back with a grimace.  "Woah, okay, that's new… Never seen 'em.  Sorry, I have a key to the TARDIS, so I saw it and let myself in…  Do you know where the Doctor is?"

"I do not know a doctor," Castiel replied.

"How'd you get into the TARDIS then?" Jack asked, frowning at Cas suspiciously.

Castiel narrowed his eyes back at the man.  "A man and Dean brought me here to recuperate.  I believe his given name may have been Smith."

Understanding lit Jack's face.  "Oh, yeah, that's the Doctor.  He likes that name for some reason… So, you don't have even a faint idea where they might be?"

Castiel thought about it and nodded.  "Dean and Sam would have headed off to fight the ghouls."

"Ghouls?"  Jack's brows lifted.  "You mean the androids?  That's what I was gonna talk to the Doctor about… Well, since we're going to the same place – I just know the Doctor's got himself involved – how about we team up?"  He gave Castiel a grin.  "By the way!  You never gave your name?"

"Oh."  The angel blinked at him.  "Castiel."

"Gorgeous," Jack breathed.

Cas gave him an odd look.  "You are the second person who has said as much today."  He frowned, wondering if it was his manner of dress.  Taking a glance down, he decided it wasn't; he wasn't wearing anything unusual.

Jack pouted.  "Damn!"  The Doctor beat him to it!  … well, he wasn't shooting down the possibility of a threesome…  "Well, anyway, let's go look for the Doctor and your friends."

Castiel thought back, remembering the feel that Smith had given him.  Then he searched the city, found the man and reached toward Jack again.  Jack's eyes widened and he started to pull away.  Cas tapped his forehead again and they teleported.

The duo arrived just behind the Doctor, whom was ducking behind a table with Sam, avoiding gun shots and laser beams.  Cas got shot in the arm and ignored it, jerking Jack down and crouching behind the other two.  "Where is Dean?"

Sam jumped about a foot and looked at them.  "He's over there," he said, pointing to where Dean was hiding behind a filing cabinet.

"Jack!  Why are you in the US?" the Doctor asked, turning to beam at the human male.

"Oh, you know, we get around," Jack replied dismissively.  "So, I see you got to him first."

"Ohhh, heard about that?  Well, he is attractive, yes, but I was talking more about he as a specimen of his species," the Doctor rambled.  "He really is a lovely example of angel kind-"

"Doctor, can you focus, please?  We're in the middle of a firefight, in case you hadn't noticed," Sam said tersely.

"Yeah, so how did this happen anyway?" Jack asked.

"We went after them, the Doctor ran his mouth, Dean helped and they decided they were just going to kill us rather than bothering with eating us," Sam explained, and sighed.

"I rather think they over reacted," the Doctor inserted helpfully as Sam peeked over the top of the table and shot some rocksalt before ducking again.

"Fucking Dean forgot the actual bullets.  Apparently rocksalt doesn't faze them much."

"Fucking Dean, huh?"  Jack glanced toward Dean, who didn't seem to have noticed them yet.  "Mmm… That's a good idea."  He suddenly got up and darted out from behind the table.

Sam yelled, the Doctor scoffed and Cas blinked, and then Jack was full of bullets.  He collapsed five feet from the elder Winchester, whom was staring down at him in shock.  "I hate it when he does that," the Doctor muttered.  "Show off."

"Does what?" Sam asked, pale.

"Dies."  The Doctor beamed and peered at their adversaries.  "Now, where is it…  Say, Castiel, was it?  I don't suppose you could distract them so I can reach that panel over there, could you?"  He nodded toward a fuse box on the wall directly across the room from Dean.

Cas gave him a curious look but nodded and vanished.  He reappeared behind the cyborgs and put his hand through the head of the nearest, drawing fire onto himself.  He vanished again, but by then, the Doctor had reached the panel and ripped it open, pointing at it with a blinking metal cylinder.

Cas reappeared beside Sam, frowning.  "Something is happening," he said, staring at Jack's corpse.

Sam followed his gaze and blinked when he watched Jack sit up and shake his head dazedly.  "How…?"

"I do not know," Cas replied.

Jack glanced around, got his bearings and crawled over to Dean.  "Hey there, hot stuff.  How's it going?" he asked, smirking.

Dean gaped at him.  "What the- how-?"

"Long story short, I'm immortal.  I die… but then I come back."  Jack smirked and held out his hand.  "Captain Jack Harkness.  You must be Dean."

Dean, a little dazed, took his hand and yelped when Jack kissed his knuckles.  Then he punched Jack in the jaw, just as the lights flared and went out.  There was a short burst of light – sparks – and silence.  "Yes!" the Doctor crowed excitedly.  "I am brilliant!"

"Yes you are, Doctor!" Jack said, rubbing his jaw.  "Are we clear?"

"Are we clear?  Who am I?  Einstein?  Of course we're clear!" the Doctor retorted.

"I can't believe it was that easy," Dean muttered, getting up and feeling his way along the wall toward the Doctor.  "What the hell happened?"

"He was distracted," Jack added from somewhere behind him, sounding smug.

"Oh and I suppose you were paying attention?" Dean snapped back.

Jack snickered.  "Nope."  There seemed to be some sort of suggestive undertone to the single word.

Sam sighed and blinked, glancing to his left where Cas stood.  The angel was glowing faintly.  "… why are you glowing?"

Castiel looked at him.  "It is my grace.  I am healing Jimmy's injuries; I always 'glow' when I am healing."

"Oooh, that's lovely…"

"Doctor, close your mouth and mop up the drool," Jack laughed.

Dean shook his head.  "No drooling over my angel," he muttered, finding a door.  He shoved it open and found himself in an alleyway.  "Guys, I found the exit!"

Castiel started walking toward him, the others following their glow-in-the-dark friend.  "Well," the Doctor said as they stepped out into the alley and smiled at them.  "I guess this is it.  We're parting from here out.  It was lovely to meet you all."  He reached out, shaking Sam and Dean's hands respectively, then smiling at Cas.  "Especially you!  You have absolutely lovely wings, you know."

Cas blinked.  His wings flexed a little and settled again.  "Thank you," he said, confused.  This man could see them?

"Hey, can I catch a ride with you, Doctor?  Airfare is such a pain in the rear," Jack said.

"Sure, it'd be lovely to catch up."

As they walked off, Sam overheard their conversation.  "So where'd that redhead go?" Jack was asking, reaching out to adjust the Doctor's bowtie.  The effort was a waste, since the rest of the man's brown pinstriped suit was pretty much a loss anyway.

"What redhead?" the Doctor asked, batting away Jack's hands.

"Oh, wait, she hasn't showed up yet, has she…?"

Whatever the Doctor's reply may have been, they were out of earshot and Sam didn't hear it.  The younger brother turned to Dean.  He smirked.  "So… Have a boyfriend now, huh?"