Dean wouldn't call the Doctor a friend, but he figured when you spent the night running through a real life Indiana Jones knockoff and dodging Dalek death rays that it had to count for something. Like the "holy shit, we survived" kinda bond or whatever. Christ. Normal guys, they went out for a drink, watched a game. Maybe called it a night or kicked back another beer. Only here could friggen robots count as water cooler talk.
"Works for me," Dean said, relieved they were heading back to familiar territory. "I'll bring what I got. Maybe we should trap your room like mine, just in case. Never know."
And that was just on what needed killing, where they'd spotted each suspect and where to go from there. It would've been a challenge even with the Impala and a safe spot like their motel room. Here it was going down differently and Dean figured that they'd have to draw some lines and figure out what they could realistically hunt down and gank, and what they might have to leave off until they were better equipped. Nevermind trying to figure out where the end of this breadcrumb trail led and just what the head honcho really was. He refused, flat out refused to think of this as 'cause of a person. It was a thing. There was a difference. People were dicks, people could do their own brand of evil shit, but this was something else entirely.
Especially if there really was people getting jacked across continents or this "other world" business of Sam's. If Dean was going out on a limb and believing the Doctor being a time traveler, then that was even more scary. What could jack someone armed with a time machine like it was nothing?
He suspected they were in way, way over their heads. Dean also knew that it didn't matter. There was a job here and they had to at least try. Crossroads deal or not, it didn't matter. This was just too big to consider strolling away from.
Dean watched Sam. If this wasn't, y'know, possibly deadly, he would've said this was right up the kid's alley. Sam had always liked researching and just knowing stuff, even if he'd also made sure he could shoot worth a damn between reading and soccer as a kid.
"What about that Ruby chick? She got anything new?"
no subject
"Works for me," Dean said, relieved they were heading back to familiar territory. "I'll bring what I got. Maybe we should trap your room like mine, just in case. Never know."
And that was just on what needed killing, where they'd spotted each suspect and where to go from there. It would've been a challenge even with the Impala and a safe spot like their motel room. Here it was going down differently and Dean figured that they'd have to draw some lines and figure out what they could realistically hunt down and gank, and what they might have to leave off until they were better equipped. Nevermind trying to figure out where the end of this breadcrumb trail led and just what the head honcho really was. He refused, flat out refused to think of this as 'cause of a person. It was a thing. There was a difference. People were dicks, people could do their own brand of evil shit, but this was something else entirely.
Especially if there really was people getting jacked across continents or this "other world" business of Sam's. If Dean was going out on a limb and believing the Doctor being a time traveler, then that was even more scary. What could jack someone armed with a time machine like it was nothing?
He suspected they were in way, way over their heads. Dean also knew that it didn't matter. There was a job here and they had to at least try. Crossroads deal or not, it didn't matter. This was just too big to consider strolling away from.
Dean watched Sam. If this wasn't, y'know, possibly deadly, he would've said this was right up the kid's alley. Sam had always liked researching and just knowing stuff, even if he'd also made sure he could shoot worth a damn between reading and soccer as a kid.
"What about that Ruby chick? She got anything new?"