I have always been alone and that was all I knew how to be. My mother and father only showed up on two occasions: my dreams and my nightmares. In my dreams, they were normal people who worked nine-to-five jobs. They were always there when I needed someone to talk to. We lived in a suburban area where all the neighbors watched me grow up. We were average people in my dreams, but in my nightmares, the truth came out. My mother was a city prostitute with a drug addiction. She slept with numerous men; consequently, my father had a name or a face. For all I know, he was just a quick [ rendevous ] to help her habit. I have bounced around from different foster homes, never finding a place that I was truly happy with or that was ever happy with me.

A Doctor Who/Supernatural Crossover: When Dr. Martha Jones hits a rough patch in her life (her fiancée's been stepping out on her and her confidence in her job performance is waning) she calls on her best friend, The Doctor, to sprint her away, losing herself in promises of far off galaxies and fantastic new worlds. It’s a trip she’s taken before. Only this time, she’s suddenly ripped away from the TARDIS and tossed into a strange car with an even stranger (though admittedly very attractive) man at the wheel, ranting about his missing brother and evil demons. Which was all very ridiculous, because everyone knew that demons weren’t real.

Were they?

Dean Winchester was having a pretty good night for once. He and his brother Sam had killed a nasty demon in record time, and he’d been settling in for an evening of cold beer and hot women. So when his brother disappeared inside some kind of bright light, to say he was irritated would definitely an understatement. He had no idea where Sam was, or how to find him. And now he had some crazy (though very hot) British chick yaking about aliens and time machines, like that stuff was real.

It’s not, is it?