CHAPTER FOUR

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Martha turned when she heard the Doctor shout her name. She didn't even need to ask what the trouble was – it was all there on his face. In the sound of his voice. “We have to go,” she said in a low voice.

“Huh?” Dean looked from the Doctor to her. “What do you mean, we have to go? I thought we were stuck here?” His gaze narrowed on her, suspicious. “Were you lying to me?”

She took him by the arm and pulled him towards the ship. “Hurry!” she ordered.

He didn't argue and had no choice but to follow. Whatever the problem was, he sure the hell wasn't qualified to handle it or offer any help. Plus, she was pretty damn strong for a woman, the way she half-dragged him along behind her.

“Quickly, Martha!” the Doctor called out from the other side of the console once she and Dean were inside. “We haven't much time!” His hands flew over the controls frantically, but with a very deliberate purpose for each movement. He glanced up as the two humans joined him, yet they kept out of his way while he worked. “We should juuuuuust ... make it.”

“What the hell is going on?” Dean asked. He backpedaled as the Doctor side-skipped to the other side of the console.

Hastily, the Doctor gestured to the flashing monitor. They definitely couldn't understand the Gallifreyan language which rolled down the screen before them, but they wouldn't need to. The graphics were clear enough: a sizable white dot was headed straight for the planet of Thoros Beta.

Martha pointed as she looked over to the Doctor. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Oooooh, yes!” he answered as he slammed down a lever. He suddenly grinned, which seemed to put her at ease. The mechanical whir echoed throughout the control room as the TARDIS dematerialized. He tilted his head back and listened to the sound for a few seconds then sprinted to the monitor.

The three of them watched in silence as the small dot slammed into the planet, the result of which caused a massive ripple effect on the screen. The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief when he realized they'd escaped the impact entirely. They were safe. For now.

“Well, that was close!” he announced as he went back to the opposite side of the console. He punched buttons as he began to input a new course.

Dean frowned as he looked from the Doctor to Martha. “Does anyone want to tell me what just happened?” he flatly asked. “Some of us don't do space travel for a livin', you know.”

“We barely escaped an asteroid impact on Thoros Beta. Rather sizeable one as well,” the Doctor explained as he finished with the course setting. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he stood straight, focusing on Dean. He rocked back and forth on his feet, a smug smile on his face. “That is what just happened.”

“So ... the planet's gone?” Dean concluded, unsure.

Martha looked to the Doctor, just as curious. “Is it gone, then?”

“Oh, not at all!” the Doctor assured them. He waved a hand at the monitor. “The impact was only on the northern hemisphere, where we were. Planet will survive, most definitely.” He punched another button and Thoros Beta vanished from the screen. “Rather curious as to where it came from, however. We're light years from the nearest asteroid belt.” He frowned, then shrugged, deciding it wasn't worth the bother right then. “Probably the best thing for the planet, ultimately. Perhaps a new form of life will emerge in a few millennia as a result.”

“You're sure there wasn't anyone else on that rock besides us?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing a little on the Doctor.

He peered over the top rims of his glasses at Dean. “If there had been lifeforms other than ourselves, I would've saved them,” he evenly replied.

Dean folded his across across his chest then said, “If thing's workin' again, that means I go home. Right?”

The Doctor gestured to the panel in front of him. “I entered the new course setting a moment ago. We should be back on Earth in ... “ He paused, nodding his side to side as he did the arithmetic in his head. Finally, he simply shrugged. “Well, it won't be very long,” he answered. He saw the expression on Dean's face and smiled a bit. “You shouldn't worry – you are in a time machine. Your brother will never know you were missing.”

“What about the Colt?” he asked as he stepped closer to the Doctor. “I don't leave without that gun.”

The Doctor heavily sighed as he removed his glasses, then massaged the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger. “I've already explained this – that key will not return to Earth.” He met Dean's hard gaze once again. “There is no negotiation. It stays on this ship.”

“I'm sayin' it won't,” he said as he poked a finger into the Doctor's shoulder. “And you don't want to negotiate with me, Doc. You wouldn't like the way I do it.”

Casually, the Doctor brushed a hand over where Dean had jabbed him. “With violence and brute force, no doubt,” he murmured. “And I've told you once already ... do not refer to me as 'Doc'.”

Dean shrugged. “If it works, you go with it.” Then, with a smirk, he added, “Doc.”

Before the Doctor could respond, Martha quickly stepped between them, her hands raised almost as though to keep them at bay. “Maybe we should discuss this calmly and rationally?” she suggested. Her eyes shifted from the Doctor to Dean. “If you'd explain to us why it's so important to you, we could sort this out.”

“I don't have to explain a goddamn thing. That gun belongs to me.” He looked to the Doctor. “And you stole it.”

“We had a good reason. Do you have one for why you should have it back? Other than 'it belongs to' you?”

After he glancing between them, he sighed as he shook his head. “I need it for my job, all right?” he replied. He met the Doctor's gaze. “That good enough for you?”

“What sort of job requires the need of a trans-dimensional gate key?” he inquired.

“We don't want it because it's a key.” He saw they waited for him to elaborate. He wasn't sure why he was so anxious about explaining his position. One of them was an alien with a frigging time and space ship – how could they not believe what he and Sam did for a living? “The Colt has another use. That's the one we need it for.”

“Another use?” Martha repeated. She glanced at the Doctor, who definitely wasn't ready to turn over the Colt based on this answer. “What use would that be?”

“It ... can kill demons. When it has the right ammunition, it can.”

Martha, eyes slightly widened, looked back to the Doctor. His reaction was completely different. His was of confusion, not surprise.

“What?”

“Demons. The Colt can kill them.” He shrugged. It was finally out. Somehow, he felt better that they knew the truth. “That's what I do. What Sam and I have done since we were kids, pretty much. We hunt demons. And vampires, werewolves, ghosts ... whatever else needs to be dealt with.” He met Martha's stunned gaze. “That's what the stuff in the trunk is for – we're hunters.”

She only continued to stare at him, gobsmacked. She didn't know why it amazed her so, especially after she'd seen countless fantastical things since she'd met the Doctor. But this, this was decidedly different than those experiences. Demons? Vampires? Ghosts? They weren't real. Then again, she'd not believed in the possibility of someone such as the Doctor until the past year or so.

“Can I have it back now?” Dean asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

After a pause, the Doctor spoke. “What do you mean, you hunt Daemons?”

“You're tellin' me an alien with a spaceship doesn't know what a demon is?” Dean asked. He'd seen the look enough in his time, the utter disbelief. The “are you friggin' crazy?” look. Yet there was something ... different about the Doctor's reaction. “You know ... evil sons of bitches, from the pit of Hell? Possess people, cause trouble?”

“Yes, I'm well aware of the human mythology behind them but ... what you're saying is absolutely impossible.”

“More impossible than this?” he asked as made grand sweeping gesture to the console room. “Hey, I believed your story. Why can't you believe mine?”

“Doctor?” Martha prompted when he only stood there, almost gaping at Dean. “What is it?”

“The Daemons are no longer on Earth, they haven't been for more than 30 years. In fact, they are quite extinct in this dimension,” the Doctor matter-of-factly stated. “The only way they could be back is if others escaped while that gateway was open.”

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you thinking of the same demons I am?”

“The Daemons are an alien race who came to Earth many millennia ago. True, they are the basis for the demon myths found in all human cultures today. They are incredibly powerful, and that gun would be utterly useless against even one of them.”

“Demons are actually aliens from another planet?” When the Doctor nodded, Dean laughed. “Get the hell out. Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am,” he replied, annoyed Dean didn't appear to take him seriously. “The Daemons influenced humanity since before the beginning of written history on your planet. The myth of Hell is one of the many human creations used to explain their existence. They are most certainly aliens, from the planet Daemos.”

His smile faded. “You're really not kidding me, are you?”

“I wouldn't ... kid about another alien species. Especially one as powerful and dangerous as the Daemons. In fact, every supposedly supernatural being is alien in origin.”

His eyes narrowed at the Doctor. “Wait - every one is ... an alien?”

“Every single one.” His features twisted up as he considered it. “Weeeeell, mostly, at any rate.”

He laughed, uneasily. Neither the Doctor nor Martha faltered, though. They honestly believed it. “Demons are aliens from a planet called Daemos, this is what you're tellin' me?”

Suppressing the urge to let out a frustrated sigh, the Doctor's jaw tightened as he nodded. “Yes.” Why couldn't anyone trust him when he stated pure fact?

“Okay. So vampires, what are they? Who are they, I guess is what I should be askin'.”

“There are actually two common explanations behind vampires.”

“Really?” Dean folded his arms across his chest. “Hit me with'em then, Doc. I can't wait to hear this.”

“One lot, they're not alien, but human in origin,” he explained as he locked his hands together behind his back. “Haemavores. They are the end result of human evolution in a possible far future, caused by millennia of exposure to dangerous pollutants. Their presence on Earth in recent times is due to a time rip caused by an old nemesis of mine. Thought it would be quite amusing to unleash them on their less ... vicious ancestors. I'd figured they would've gone extinct by now. It seems I'm wrong.” He pointed a finger at Dean, raising an eyebrow. “That doesn't happen often, mind you.”

Martha didn't know about the Haemavores, but she did know of an alien being which was similar. “The other would be the Plasmavore? Like the one we met on the moon, yes?”

The Doctor snapped his fingers, grinning broadly at her. “Exactly! The Plasmavores survive on the hemoglobin of most any other species. And I do know they're at work on the Earth these days.”

So the Doctor had two pretty good stories so far, but he couldn't keep bullshitting him forever. He'd catch him on something. “What about werewolves?”

“Lupine wavelength haemovariforms. I've met two in my travels. Each instance spawned very different outcomes.”

“A what?”

“Lupine wavelength haemovariforms.” Dean's expression remained blank. After a sigh, the Doctor added, “An alien lifeform, we'll simply leave it at that.”

Dean's eyes narrowed. “Okay, a wavelength whatever the hell it is. Why don't you explain ghosts to me, then? There's no friggin' way they are aliens. Not a chance.” He knew of anything supernatural, the Doctor would never be able to double-talk his way out of that one.

“Most are beings from Null-Space.”

“What the hell is Null-Space?”

“Null-Space. It's another universe separate from this one, where every living creature from our universe has an alternate form, or N-form. Except Time Lords,” he replied. “Upon the death of an individual, their dead N-form leaves N-Space to a higher plane, rather like traveling up a tunnel of light. Their negative emotions are left behind to become monstrous beings.”

Dean wasn't convinced. “Really?”

“Occasionally, after trauma or when an individual cannot accept their own death, this N-form remains in torment, and thus N-Space is the home of much evil and suffering. Some may refer to it as a version of Hell.”

“Whatever these N-Space beings are, they ain't aliens.”

“Yet they aren't human,” the Doctor countered. “And, if you'll remember, I said 'mostly',” he added, more than a bit annoyed. “At any rate, N-forms desire souls for sustenance and some times escape through flaws in the N-Space barrier into our universe, where they relive out the last moments of their life as a so-called 'ghost'.”

“We have a name for that in my line of work, Doc. It's a 'death echo'. I don't buy that ghosts are negative feelings of weird beings in some alternate dimension called N-Space, either.” If he didn't know better, he might've believed it, sure. The explanation was pretty convincing, and the Doctor seemed certain of what he said. On the other hand, Dean had seen too much. Fought too much.

“Well, no, not all of them,” the Doctor replied. “Some have been impressions of beings from parallel dimensions, weak forms leaking through cracks between this one and another.”

“The Cybermen, from last year,” Martha said. She frowned as she realized something. “Actually, that'd be right now, wouldn't it? What happened?”

He nodded. “Relative to when we ... acquired our friend here, yes, it's just happened. Perhaps a week ago.” His brow furrowed as he shifted his attention to Dean. “Didn't you witness any of that, then?”

“Witness any of what?”

“The Cybermen? Men made of metal, millions of them all over the world, nearly destroyed the Earth?”

Slowly, Dean shook his head. “No.”

“Really? It would've been almost impossible to miss.”

“We were kinda busy with our own problems a week ago,” Dean flatly replied. “None of them involved metal men from another dimension invading the planet.”

“Huh.” The Doctor scratched the back of his head as he looked to Martha. “Don't know how anyone could've not noticed that.”

“We didn't, all right?” Dean snapped, gaining the Doctor's attention again. “Is that the end of the ghost explanations?”

“Actually, no. There was the thing in Perivale in 1983. Completely different alien being, but an alien being all the same. Then, a properly controlled and concentrated source of psychokinetic energy can create psychic projections of people, commonly mistaken for so-called 'ghosts'.” A thoughtful expression crossed The Doctor's features. “Oh, and the Gelth. An alien race who used a time rift to slip into our world while pretending to be ghosts.”

Eyes narrowed, more suspicious than ever, Dean asked, “You have proof to back up all of this? I've seen more than enough to know this ain't little green men or whatever else causin' trouble.”

“To the uneducated, it would seem that way,” the Doctor casually replied. He approached the console and punched a few buttons on the main panel.

“Are you callin' me stupid?”

The Doctor peered over the top rims of his glasses at him. “There's a distinct difference between someone who is stupid and someone who simply isn't aware of the facts,” he stated. “For all of your obvious faults, I wouldn't place stupidity among them.”

“Gee, thanks a lot, Doc,” he flatly replied.

He inwardly winced at the shortening of his title, despite his continued requests against it. He was now convinced Dean did it merely to annoy him.

“Isn't it possible there may be more to it than just aliens?” Martha inquired as she joined the Doctor. She glanced at Dean. “He does rather strongly believe in what he's experienced.”

“Weeeell,” the Doctor started as he looked up to them. “There are more simple and scientific explanations for such strange encounters.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “Strong electromagnetic fields have been proven to cause hallucinations in humans. Most 'hauntings' occur in old buildings composed of stone. EM fields are generated by the stones rubbing together.”

“I've seen ghosts in modern day buildings. Even in the middle of nowhere,” Dean defensively said.

“EM fields aren't the only source of these disturbances. Infrasonic sound waves can elicit similar reactions, at the correct frequency.”

“Your sonic screwdriver produces such waves, right?” Martha remembered how he'd used the device to stop Dr. Lazarus.

“Yes, to a limited extent,” he confirmed. “Reactions to infrasonic sound range from uneasiness to nervousness, feelings of revulsion or fear, chills down the spine and even feelings of pressure on the chest. This is all quite common knowledge on most planets beyond Earth.”

Stepping forward, Dean held up his hands. “All right – I've heard enough of your version of things. Let me tell you mine. No vampire or werewolf or demon I've met mentioned anything about being aliens or from the future. You'd think they'd know where they came from.”

“Not necessarily,” the Doctor said as he continued to hit keys. “So many of them have forgotten their origins. The Daemons you've allegedly encountered are a perfect example.” He looked to the humans. “Any still on Earth wouldn't remember its true origin. They've become so intertwined with the mythos man created for them that they've become ... 'demons'. It's why they react to things such as religious icons. Their own superstition rules them now. The same can be said for werewolves, vampires, etc. and so on.”

“You may believe that, but I don't.”

He motioned to the monitor. “Why not have a look for yourself, then?” He stepped back, hands his in pockets, as both Martha and Dean moved closer to the screen. The Gallifreyan language was replaced by English. The first entry the Doctor had pulled up from the TARDIS memory banks was on the Daemons.

As Dean read through the information on the screen, the history of the race, he couldn't believe it. Or he didn't want to. Everything he'd known demons to do, what they were capable of in his experiences, it was within the power of these ... aliens. Possession, all of it.

Martha looked from the screen to him. His whole outward manner was different. He appeared as he'd been punched in the face. She couldn't help but feel somewhat sorry for him. To have everything he'd ever believed in proven to be completely wrong? Her attention shifted back to the screen as it flicked to the next entry.

For almost ten minutes, Dean read page after page of detailed information on vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and witches, along with countless explanations for the power of magics like voodoo. Everything he'd known from the time he was four years old the Doctor's computer had a logical, scientific explanation for. The mystery of the world around them had been stripped away. Nothing was what it seemed. They'd been fighting ... aliens all of these years? After they'd laughed off the possibility themselves, even though other supernatural stuff was acceptable?

The Doctor, now reclined in one of the seats near the console, lifted an eyebrow when both humans turned to him. He saw the indescribable expression on Dean's face. And the more sympathetic one on Martha's. Usually, he took satisfaction in putting myth and disinformation to rest with science and fact. This time, he didn't. In essence, he'd effectively shattered this boy's entire existence.

“Are you all right?” Martha softly asked as she placed a hand on one of Dean's shoulders. She wasn't sure how to feel herself. The news had upset him, to say the least. He appeared crushed, definitely not the same man he'd been a half an hour before. And the Doctor only sat there, with an indecipherable look on his face. Was he happy? Pleased? Regretful? “Dean?”

Dean snapped out of his trance when Martha said his name. She looked up at him, almost sadly. “I ... I don't know,” he murmured.

“Why don't you sit down?” she suggested. She jerked her head, indicating for the Doctor to move. Once he did, she helped Dean practically collapse into the empty seat. “Are you all right?” she asked again. When she received no answer, she looked to the Doctor.

He merely shrugged his shoulders in response. It was necessary, he'd told himself. If destroying the false beliefs of one person kept the key off of Earth, so be it. Whatever alien species, if any, escaped the Gate, he'd have to be prepared to deal with them, should they decide create problems. He didn't have time to worry over Dean's personal issues.

He noticed Martha still stared at him. She nodded her head and mouthed for him to leave. He glanced at Dean then shoved his hands in his pockets. “Right, then,” he said then cleared his throat. He backed away from the console, headed for the door which led to the rest of the TARDIS' rooms. “I, uh, have a few things to sort out. Martha, you'll watch over here for a bit?”

“Yes,” she replied, then waved a hand. Once he was gone, she focused on Dean. He continued to blankly stare at the floor. She pressed her lips together as she sat down beside him, unsure of how to handle the situation. “If I'd have known, I wouldn't have asked you. I am sorry.”

He lifted his head. Martha's face was filled with guilt as well as concern. “It's not your fault,” he quietly said. “It's ... all of these years Sam and I have done this job, it wasn't what we thought it was. Everything's different now.”

“Not necessarily.” When he looked to her, she continued. “You've done your job successfully this long, haven't you?” He nodded. “All of the knowledge you had prior to now, it's just as valid. So they're alien in origin.” A shrug. “Nothing else has changed.”

“What are you talkin' about, how's it not changed?” he asked, confused. “He just told me none of it was real, not in the way I thought it was. Or anyone else in our line of work.”

“Before this, you were able to use your knowledge to stop these ... demons and such, yes? Even though the origins are not what you'd believed them to be, your methods are still effective.”

Dean leaned back in the chair. “What's the friggin' point?” he sighed. He rubbed his forehead with a hand, more out of stress than his injury. “It's not the same. We thought that Gate was the Gate to Hell, not some ... other dimension full of ... aliens.” His hand dropped to his lap as he looked to her. “You don't know what we've been through, what's happened to us since we were kids. Our lives are based on this stuff.”

“It still can be,” Martha replied. “Obviously, the Doctor was right about their superstitions ruling them.” She leaned over, trying to make him look her in the eye. “There is a point. You don't have to stop what you're doing.”

Dean stood, his back to her. “It nice ... what you're tryin' to do, Martha.” He gaze traveled around the expansive console room. “We thought we had a good idea of what was going on, then it turns out they're aliens.” He faced her. “Aliens who think they're demons. Who knows what they're gonna do with these new ones in our world? What if they do remember what they are?” He paused. “What Sam and I know, it might be as useless as the Colt. Then what?”

“The Doctor can help,” she answered as she rose to her feet. “It's what he does.” She took a step closer. “When we return to Earth, maybe we could -”

“It doesn't matter,” he cut in. “It's still different, if the Doc offers to help us out or not.”

She frowned. She hadn't known him very long, but he didn't strike her as a sort who would give in so easily. He'd walked into the unknown with only a shotgun to retrieve something he thought would help defeat evil. “I can't believe you'd simply quit because the details have changed.”

He faced her. “Look, you don't understand, we -”

Suddenly, without any type of warning, the TARDIS jolted. Dean and Martha lost their footing and fell against the console, which sparked as several lights flashed like mad.

“You okay?” Dean asked as he helped Martha to stand straight. She nodded. “What the hell's goin' on?”

Before she could even begin to guess, the ship jerked again and threw them back into the seats.

“Doctor!”

-

End Chapter Four