Sam turned suddenly, the EMF detector in his hand pulsating with the burst of wind that rippled through his hair. Its needle twitched in a distinct rhythm, a pattern of activity he'd seen only once before-

Was it? But… It couldn't be…

The screeching, grinding noise started, and a large blue box pulsated in and out of existence for a moment, before solidifying, landing, in the middle of the yard.

Oh, yes. It was him. It had to be.

The door of the Police Box opened slowly, creaking, as two figures stepped out.

Sam shone his flashlight at the Time Lord, who had emerged first.

"Hey, Doctor," Sam called, tiredness bleeding through his excitement.

"Hello, Sam!" The Doctor returned his greeting. "You should meet my friend," he continued, as his companion stepped forward into the beam of the flashlight, a man with a goatee and a face Sam would have known anywhere. He grabbed his gun.

" What the hell are you doing with Crowley?" Sam shouted, pointing his shotgun at the Time Lord and the shorter man beside him.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Replied Crowley, looking panicked.

"Sam, please, put the gun down. This isn't your Crowley demon fellow, this is Canton Everet Deleware III."

"I don't…Alright. I'll put the gun down, if he can prove he's who he says he is." Sam pulled a spray can out of his backpack, still training the gun on the pair, as he began to draw on the ground with a sputtering stream of paint.

"What? What the hell are you doing?" The Supposedly-Not-Crowley replied.

"The real Crowley couldn't step out of this. So to prove it you're going to walk through it. If you don't, then you're mine." He explained, walking back and forth as he drew the intricate star shape of the trap.

"I wish you'd listen. This is entirely unnecessary. This man is not your Crowley." The Doctor exhorted.

"I'll believe you if he proves himself," Sam replied grimly, as he finished the painting. The can rattled as he capped it and threw it into his backpack.

"Go on then, I'm waiting." He prodded Supposedly-Not-Crowley, gesturing toward the trap with his gun.

The man sighed, "I still don't see what this will prove," as he strode forward.

Sam expected to see him flinch, or stop, or destroy the trap by inducing an earthquake with is powers or…anything, anything other than strand himself intentionally in the trap.

His eyes widened as he saw the man step over the line into it. "No," he muttered.

"What?" The man replied, taking a few more steps, and….

"No! I don't know what you're doing, but—"

"But what? Are you that crazy you really believe some voodoo symbols actually have power?" The man asked, raising his arms in a gesture of exasperation where he stood, now outside the trap.

Sam scoffed, staring silently at the man.

"Actually, Canton, in different universes, the laws of physics diverge from those you are accustomed to in your reality. It is entirely possible that here a symbols hold untold powers. Sam would be much more knowledgable in that regard than you or even I." The Doctor chimed in.

"You…What did you say your name was again?" Sam asked slowly, shaking his head.

"Name's Canton." the man replied sharply. "And I'd greatly appreciate it if you quit looking for excuses to shoot me. I'm not whoever or whatever you think I am, clearly."

"Sam, as I've been trying to tell you, he is Canton Everret Deleware III from the White House, serving currently…or, rather, not so currently, under President Nixon. He's on a trip with me, you see, as he has been an invaluable help in fighting some of my greatest enemies."

"Seriously, you're from the Nixon Administration?" Sam asked, slowly lowering his gun.

"Yes, although not your Nixon Administration. Different Nixon. Different White House, different universe," Canton replied, extending a hand to Sam, who after pausing a moment, returned the handshake.

"Okay. So, Canton. Look, I'm, uh, sorry I guess about thinking you were Crowley. He's a real piece of work, someone I've been hunting for a while now."

"Hunting?" Canton replied, his expression changing to a mixture of intrigue and concern.

"Yeah, uh…long story."

"Sam, a bit like you and me, protects humanity from those that threaten it. Although I don't rather like that term, hunting, it's what he calls it." The Doctor explained.

"Those that threaten it? Like this Crowley you took me for?" Canton probed.

"Yeah, especially Crowley. And…." He trailed off for a moment. "Look, it's too much to explain. I…can't. I'm busy. And it's good to see you," he continued, wearily, "But I have to keep working."

"Well, what were you working on?" Canton asked.

"I've been investigating a murder, but…whatever did it seems to have moved on. Disappeared. I'll have to keep trying to track it."

"Tracking is all very well, but you do realize you're standing in front of a time machine? Why not just go back to catch the creature beforehand?"

"Canton, you're quite bright. I did promise him a favor once. Perhaps now would be a time to extend the offer once again, provided you're alright with traveling together."

"As long as he cuts out the crazy, we should be OK," Canton assented.

"Well then! Sam, where would you like to go?"

"There's nothing here. This crap isn't worth the time. But… I have something I need to do." He replied, his voice steely with resolve.

"What would that be?"

"You can go anywhere and any time you want, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"Can we have a minute?" Sam asked, motioning to Canton.

Canton nodded, shrugging, and retreated into the Tardis, leaving the two to talk in private.

"So, what's the need for privacy? What are we going to talk about?" The Doctor asked, his eyes gleaming in excitement.

Sam's face fell, the toll of the past weeks showing clearly in his expression as he ran a hand through his hair, before speaking.

His reply was simple, his voice tired, hollow and grim.

"I need you to take me to my brother."