The Winchesters

Sam and Dean stealthily maneuvered through the hallways of the expansive abandoned castle, which seemed to add more wings to it the longer they stayed there. Their guns were held tightly in their hands, darting around every corner.

The Doctor had said that there was a poltergeist here that had been causing trouble for hundreds of years. They couldn't find any poltergeist. He had also said that this was a school for wizards and witches, but not to shoot any because they all had good intentions. It was the middle of September, the time when most schools opened for the year, and there were no children to be found. Granted, it was midnight, but the whole castle looked like it hadn't been inhabited since it was built.

"There isn't anything here," Sam whispered into the walkie-talkie.

"Keep looking," John Watson said from the other end. "Better to be safe than sorry. Besides, the Doctor was pretty positive that there was something there, and the Doctor is hardly ever wrong."

"He could be wrong this time," Dean growled into the microphone. "Not everyone's perfect."

"I'd like to object to that statement," came another voice.

"Not now, Sherlock," John warned.

"We'll take one last look around," Sam cut in before the two could start bickering like a married couple. "Then we'll meet you in that hut outside."

"We'll be waiting."

"Let's check in here," Sam said, pushing a door slowly open.

"Why the Hell would that room be any different than all the others?"

"Because the EMF is going crazy over here," Sam explained as if Dean were a child, disappearing behind the door. Dean sighed and followed his brother inside too.

The room was empty except for a tall mirror standing in the middle. "A mirror? Who would put a random mirror here in this dusty old place?" Dean asked, mostly to himself.

"Look at the writing on the top," Sam said, cautiously stepping closer to the mirror. "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. What do you suppose that means?"

"I don't know or care. Come on, let's go, this place is giving me the creeps-"

"Dean," Sam interrupted, now standing fully in front of the mirror, eyes fixated on his reflection. "I see Jess."

"What?" Dean asked, now coming up behind his brother. All that he could see was Sam and himself.

"Don't you see her?"

Dean shook his head. "Are you feeling alright, Sammy?"

"I'm feeling fine. Maybe you just aren't looking at it right. Stand here." Sam pushed his brother so he was now standing right in front of the mirror. "There. Do you see her now?"

But Dean wasn't listening to Sam anymore. He was staring at his reflection, not quite believing what he was seeing. There she was, standing right next to him, smiling and waving at him, just like he remembered her.


He couldn't keep his voice steady for the life of him. He turned, trying to see her standing right next to him, but she wasn't there. She was only in the reflection, untouchable, never able to hold her son in her arms, never able to see him grow up, because she was dead. This was not her. This was just some magic trick.

It had to be.

The Doctor

"I don't know what the fuck it is, but I know it ain't natural," Dean growled, nearly yelled, to the Doctor, Sherlock, and John. Sam was off in his own little world behind them, pacing up and down on the grimy floor of the small hut, mind buzzing, his heart throbbing with grief as he remembered Jess standing there and how he had so wanted her to be with him again.

"What was it again?" John asked, eyebrows tightly knotted together as he explored all of the different possibilities in his head.

"A mirror. Just a damn mirror."

"Could be a cursed object," the Doctor suggested.

"You have to touch a cursed object for you to actually be cursed by it," Sherlock drawled.

"A spirit!" John exclaimed. "Do you think a spirit could have inhabited the mirror?"

"No spirit could have done that," Dean spat angrily. He was bristling, but he didn't know why or what he was angry at. The mirror had done him nor Sammy any harm, at least not any physical damage. So why was he fuming?

"I'll take a quick look at it," the Doctor finally decided, getting up from his seat.

"Be careful," Sam muttered absent-mindedly. He still wasn't even following the conversation, lost in his own head.

"Be right back," the Doctor waved, stepping into the TARDIS.

He arrived a few moments later in the room Dean and Sam had spoken of. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and stepped into the room. It felt very lonely and quiet there, and the gigantic mirror only added to the feeling.

He walked up to it, straightening his bow tie and smiling at his own reflection.

Until he saw them.

Hundreds upon hundreds of people were standing with him in the room, all looking expectantly at him with wide smiles on their faces. A few specific faces he could pick out specifically...Donna. Rose. Rory and Amy.

The others all looked familiar too, and he realized that they were all his old companions and the other time lords, all long dead now.

Against his will a tear slid down his cheek as he looked at Donna's blue eyes and Rose's bright blooming smile. It was all too much. He slid to the floor, face covered with his hands, his mission already forgotten.

The Detective and The Soldier

"It's been twenty minutes and the Doctor still isn't back yet," John said worriedly, glancing at his watch yet again.

"Told you something is fucked up with that mirror," Dean grunted.

"Should we check to see if he needs help?"

"Only if two of us go. It is clear that one is not a very strong number," Sherlock stated.

"Who will go?"

"John and I will. Now, please tell me everything about this object. I need as much information about the enemy before we walk into battle."

"Well uh, it's a mirror-"

"Yes, yes, now get to the more important, less obvious things. What was unusual about it? Any strange carvings or something of the like?"

"There were words," Sam murmured, who was now sitting down in the corner, staring into space, forgotten by the others until now.

"What words?"

"I don't remember much. Something like 'Erised stra…ehruo oit yube…cafro oit om woshi.' I don't know what language."

"There is no language in the world that goes like that," Sherlock sighed, annoyed. John shot him a look. He forcibly added, "But…Thank you… very much, Sam. Now, tell me what you saw, and be very specific."

"I saw Jess. She was…she was smiling at me. She looked happy. She looked like what she did before she…before she died."


"I saw my mother," Dean said, sounding very wary and protective.

"What was she doing?"

"Nothing," Dean said with finality, and even Sherlock knew that only a fool would question him further.

"Alright. If John and I aren't back in let's say-" He looked over at John's watch. "-thirty minutes, leave. Save yourselves."

Both brothers looked up abruptly at him, eyes wide with surprise, searching his face to see if he was lying. He wasn't.

They nodded their head in a salute, silently thanking him, but knowing that they would not follow his orders. It was the Winchester unwritten rule: All or nothing.

Sherlock donned on his coat and scarf and left without a second glance, John following closely behind.


The man on the ground did not move.

Sherlock strode into the room, focussing all of his attention on the mirror and the strange words written above it, "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi," not exactly what Sam had said, but not everyone had a photographic memory like himself.

Was it some kind of code? He ran the three most popular ones in his head, none of them making any sense at all.

"Get him out of here," Sherlock said, nodding his head toward the Doctor. "And make sure not to look at your reflection."

John did as he was told, having to nearly carry the Doctor out, the poor time lord muttering something about a Rose Tyler and a couple with the names Amy and Rory.

Sherlock went around to the back of the mirror, inspecting it to see if there were any more markings of some kind. It was clean.

"Mind-boggling, isn't it?" an old, weary, but cheery, voice said from behind Sherlock. He whirled around to see a man with a long, white beard and silver robes.

"The mirror?" Sherlock asked, not disturbed by the sudden appearance of the old man.

"Magic," he clarified. "But, when explained, it seems to be all quite simple."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you, Mr. Holmes, should know very well how it works. Not magic, of course," he added, seeing the look in Sherlock's eyes. "But knowing something that's quite mind-boggling, but thinking that it is very simple."

"Who are you?"

"No one of import. You want to know what the mirror does, do you not?"

"I do."

"Then look at it."

"I'd rather come out of this castle in one piece, thank you."

"It is hard to leave someplace in one piece when you were already broken in coming in."

Sherlock had nothing to say to this.

"So will you look now?"

"What if I can't turn away?"

"As my word as headmaster of this school, I promise I will force you away if you are not able."

Sherlock searched the old man's face, trying to detect signs of a lie. He couldn't find any.

He turned to the mirror's front.

"What do you see?" the old man asked softly.

"John," Sherlock answered in the same tone.

"What is he doing?"

"He's just looking at me. He's…He's giving me his full attention."

"You know you can do better than that. Observe."

"There's a ring on his finger. A marriage ring. There's a matching one on my hand also. He…um, he-"

"I do not need to know the whole of your deepest desires," the old man said, snapping Sherlock from his gaze at the mirror.

"So that's what this is…Of course! Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi… I show not your face-"

"-But your heart's desire. Yes. The Mirror of Erised is probably the most powerful object in this school. But many have withered away in its presence, as you have seen this evening. Well, I must get going. Your loyal companion has come back to fetch you."

Before Sherlock could say anything in return, the man disappeared into thin air right before John came walking through the door.

"Sherlock? You coming?"

"Yes," Sherlock said, turning away from the Mirror of Erised and following John through the hallways of the enormous castle.

"I nearly thought you had gotten slipped into that mirror woo-joo like the others for a second there," John said, relief flooding his voice.

"This is me we are talking about," Sherlock said with a smirk.

"Nobody's perfect."

"I am."

"I beg to differ."

They exited the castle, bickering like an old married couple, and Sherlock was happy.

For once he knew exactly the reason why.

Not sure if I like this, but oh well... Tell me what you think in a review :)