"I was like two when my dad said he saw him," The kid with wild hair sitting at the other end of the long library table whispered rather hoarsely to his friend. It was obvious that subtlety was not this kid's forte. They both looked to be barely out of high school and enjoying their new-found, 18-year-old freedom. Dean rolled his eyes and shot Sam a sideways glance, catching his brother making a similar expression. They had been following this moron, Mike, for days and at this rate they were about to watch Mike get thrown out of the library for breaking the coveted silence.

"No way, man. They debunked that shit on that one show…the one where they debunk stuff," said Mike's stocky friend as he scratched at his stubbly chin.

"Shut up, no they didn't!"

A loud "SHH!" rang out from an unknown source. Dean cleared his throat.

"He said him and my mom were walking home from a neighbor's house and then they heard this crazy noise across the street. It was like…" Mike made a strange donkey-like creaking noise bringing forth a chorus of shushes from all directions. He leaned in closer to his friend, causing Sam and Dean to noticeably crane their necks in order to eavesdrop.

"There was this blue box that appeared outta nowhere. Just like this one!" The Winchester's eyes flicked to an old photograph that spread across two pages in the large tome in front of the two young guys. Dean turned to Sam and shook his head, silently communicating that he couldn't make out what was being indicated in the photograph.

"He said that a man got out of the box," His wild hair fell into his eyes as he snatched another book from the mess on the table. "This guy right here! Has to be!"

"So?"

"When I saw the box, it was a different guy… and he was with someone."

"So you think he's like a time traveler or something?"

"Well… yeah."

"Dude, you're still high."

Dean let out a heavy sigh and turned to his brother, "Screw this, I'm going in."

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but it was too late. Dean was already taking the seat across from Mike and his equally stoned, stubbly friend.

"So you've seen him too?" Dean said conspiratorially. The two guys looked up at him almost as if they were in a daze. It was a risk, Dean knew it. They could either spill it or become more paranoid and harder to tail. Luckily, this fishing trip proved to be successful. In fact, Dean didn't even have to resort to baiting the conversation; the proverbial fish were jumping into the boat.

"Yeah man!" Mike's dark eyes grew round as he turned his loud whisper towards Dean. There was a strong aroma of pot coming off of the kid.

"I heard you saying something about your dad seeing him?" Dean said, trying to keep the tone of ridicule that was creepy into his voice at a minimum. He figured these two knuckleheads were too baked to notice anyhow.

"Yeah."

Dean waited. After a good two minutes, he gestured for Mike to continue.

"He said the guy had a weird umbrella."

"Weird how?"

"Just… weird."

Dean took an even breath, hoping that maybe the reefer emanating from these two would calm him down.

"But that's not what the story's really about, man," Mike pushed his hair out of his eyes and locked gazes with Dean. The kid's voice changed to a more somber note."It's about what my mom did."

"What do you mean?" Dean's green eyes narrowed. This was not the story he had sat in for.

"My mom saved the time traveler guy's life."

"She what? Why?"

"I don't know, man! I wish she hadn't! My dad said that the guy was standing there and all of the sudden, my mom was running across the street. He was like 'what are you doing?!' and she was just running. Just then the time traveler guy went to step off the curb, but he stuck his umbrella into a sewer grate. He started to fall, but my mom like rushed at him and pushed him backwards right when a truck drove up. This truck was like out of nowhere, man…my mom, she died."

"Sorry," Dean felt a pang of pity for the kid. "What then?"

"That's all my dad told me. He doesn't like to talk about it."

"Great," Dean said flatly, "What about when you saw him?"

"He didn't have an umbrella, but he was wearing a bow tie."

Dean looked over at Sam who was watching the encounter intently. Sam's eyebrows raised in an unspoken question. Dean nodded, tapping the area at the base of his neck where a bow tie would sit. When he turned back to the two stoners, they didn't seem to have noticed that he just made a mysterious signal to another man at the other end of the table.

"What about the woman?"

"What woman?"

Dean growled, "The woman you saw with Mr. Bowtie."

"Oh ," Mike's eyes grew watery and Dean saw a shadow in his gaze. It was as if Mike had seen something he wished he could attribute to his recreational drug use, but was unable. "She… it…"

"What!" Dean was running out of patience.

"She was…my mom."

"Your mom?"

"I swear, man."

Dean was moments from springing up from his seat and thanking the two potheads for nothing, when something clicked in his mind. He reached into his army green jacket and produced a small spiral bound notebook and a pen.

"Write down your mom's full name - with her maiden name," Dean ordered as he put the paper and pen in front of the kid. He expected an argument or at least a question as to why, but Mike simply complied. Dean took the paper from the kid's trembling hand and opened the crumpled note.

Clara Oswald.