Leadworth, 1995.
When Rory is six his mother dies.
She's been ill for a while, he knows that. His father says there was nothing they could do, he knows that too. But Rory is six and his mother has just died and all he can think is: I should have saved her.
After his mother's funeral his dad spends less and less time with Rory. He says it's because he needs to work extra hard to earn enough money now that mum's dead. But in reality it's because Rory has mum's eyes and hair and nose and smile, and Rory knows this.
His mother used to tuck him in and tell him stories about the monsters she and his dad fought but she'd always end the story by saying, "But monsters don't exist, baby. You know that, right?" and Rory would nod and she'd kiss him and sing him to sleep. Now Rory tucks himself in and lies awake until he hears his dad come home late at night.
He doesn't get on with anyone at school. He's shorter than them, quieter, meeker. And his Dad's just too strange. Everyone in Leadworth knows about the time his dad blamed that string of murders on a werewolf and that he was the last person to see Luke Grayson before he disappeared. His dad tells him not to get to close to anyone in case they have to move again. And Rory knows this and Rory understands. What he doesn't understand is why he can't have any friends.
After six months Dad starts coming home from work beaten up. Once he comes home with long, deep claw marks all across his chest and back. Rory has to patch him up, mum used to do this, but she can't anymore. Dad never tells Rory how he gets his wounds but Rory finds his Dad's diary and reads about ghouls and werewolves and demons and vampires and monsters that live under the bed.
That night Rory curls up in his bed, shivering and whimpering. Please don't let the monsters get my Dad. Please don't let the monsters get me. Please, please, please!
He's woken up that night by a flutter of wings and he sits bolt upright, pulling the plastic sword from under his pillow. (His dad won't let him have a real knife so he had to make do with the sword from his last Halloween costume) "Who's there?" he demands.
He's met with a soft chuckle. "You can put that sword away, kiddo. You won't be needing it. Not for a very long time." The voice is American.
Rory blinks; he can't quite see the figure standing over his bed but he doesn't feel afraid. "Who are you?" he repeats. "My Daddy's a hunter you know!"
Again, the figure chuckles. "Rory Williams, already such a fighter."
"How do you know my name?" Rory asks, curiously.
"Oh, I know a lot about you, kiddo." The figure moves and Rory sees a pair of wings and the wrapper of a chocolate bar.
He swallows, "Why are you here?"
"Ha. Well, technically I'm not. I'm not supposed to be but I like you and one day you're going to be very important. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about."
Rory snorts, "How would you know that?"
"Oh, I know everything. Well, not everything. But quite a bit. I've been around a lot."
Rory cocks his head, "Are you from the future?" (He read that in a comic book somewhere).
The figure nods, "In a manner of speaking."
Rory surveys the figure thoughtfully. "I don't believe you," he says eventually. "Time travel is impossible. You could just be a monster trying to kill me!" he lifts the sword up again.
The figure raises his arms, "Whoa, whoa there kid." He chuckles, "You don't wanna do that. Anyway, I can prove it. Tomorrow your father's going to come early and take you on holiday for the whole summer. And you'll the most important person in your life. You'll do great things, kid."
Rory opens his mouth to ask more questions but in flurry of wing beats and a gush of wind the figure is gone.
The next morning his dad comes to fetch him from school (which he never does) and leads him out to an already packed car. It's only June, school isn't over yet but dad doesn't seem to care about that.
"We're going to America, Rory." He says as they drive. "Won't that be fun?"
A boy in Rory's class went to America last year, to Disney Land. Somehow Rory doesn't think that's where they're headed.
As they leave Leadworth dad stops briefly to drop in on a friend, Rory waits outside and watches as a family with a redheaded little girl moves in next door to dad's friend. The girl pauses and looks at him, Rory smiles because she's beautiful, honestly, she is. But she glares.
"Amelia," her mother scolds in a thick Scottish accent. "Be polite."
Rory smiles and shakes his head but before he can talk to Amelia his father hurries out of the house. "Come on, Rory." He says.
Rory clambers into the car and watches Amelia from the window as they drive away.