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The Doctor sat in his pilot's chair, playing around his sonic. Everything was so dull he thought. Even the TARDIS was itching for some excitement, even if it meant putting up with the Doctor's new companion. The TARDIS didn't much care for her, and both the Doctor and Clara felt it, but the Doctor knew she was just missing the Ponds. He knew she would come around soon enough. The Doctor sighed. "Oh the Ponds…," he thought sadly. Knowing he had to get off that painful subject, he shot up out of his seat and called for his companion, who was somewhere in the TARDIS.

"Clara!" The Doctor yelled, as the TARDIS began takeoff. "Nineteen seventy-four! You've seen the future, so now Clara Oswald, let me show you the past." Clara grinned and held onto the console. The TARDIS console whooshed, throwing them around the room. They both smiled and stared up at the monitor. "Geronimo!" The Doctor yelled, as the TARDIS began its descent out of the time vortex and towards the Earth.

Dean and Sam sat in a motel room, Sam on his laptop sprawled across the bed and Dean eating a cheeseburger from a joint down the street. Sam's legs were too long to stay on the bed when he was lying down. He sighed softly and went through the news. "Any cases in the newspaper?" Sam asked, not looking up from his laptop. Dean quickly glanced up to see if Sam was looking at him. Seeing he wasn't, Dean swallow the bite of burger in his mouth quickly and thought up a lie. "Uh… Not really. Just the usual, regular old suicides in random places. No signs of demons anywhere. What about you, anything popping up online?" Sam shrugged, anxious to find a case so they could get out if the crappy hotel they had been staying in since their last case. They had finished killing a coven of vampires just about a week ago. He was about to go stir-crazy, having never been in a place that long since his college days, and before that his life was just as it was now. Go to a place, find a case, kill something, and move on. The same endless cycle of crap.

"No news from Cass?" Sam asked, desperately needing something to do, whether it be a case, argument with an angel or anything really, didn't matter to him anymore. "Nothing much, just mumbo jumbo about the 'civil war' that's raging up there. I'm not sure he even cares anymore, now that we aren't the vessels for Michael and Lucifer," Dean said, taking a sip of his beer. Sam sighed and leaned back, hitting his head on the headboard.

"That's it," he said, getting up and putting his laptop into his bag. "There isn't a case here, so can we please move on? I'm literally about to go crazy here, Dean." Dean sighed, "But you've got to admit," he paused, taking the last bite of his cheeseburger, "The food is great, Sammy." Sam rolled his eyes and began packing, neatly folding everything into his bag. Within five minutes, he was packed and ready to go.

Dean, on the other hand, had just balled up his hamburger wrapper and thrown it into the trash can across the room. He finished the last swig of his beer, tossing the can in along with the trash as well. Sam sighed, knowing it would be a while until they hit the road that he was so desperate for. Dean walked to his side of the room and began messily throwing all of his belongings into one bag. He quickly went into the bathroom and came out with his hands full of tons of little bottles, all with different markings. "Stealing the shampoo from a shabby motel? Really, Dean?" Sam asked, the annoyance at his older brother painfully obvious in the tone of his voice.

"Newsflash, a guy's got to shower. And it's easier than walking into a supermarket in some of these towns. Legally," Dean smiled happily, "I'm still dead." Sam rolled his eyes again, as Dean stuffed the bottles into his already stuffed bag. That stupid shape shifter just had to die in Dean's form and get him legally declared dead, Sam thought. Sometimes Sam was even a bit jealous that his brother didn't have to be nearly as careful now.

"Done!" Dean declared a couple minutes later as he threw his bag over his shoulder. He turned to look at Sam. "Let's roll." The boys walked out to their Impala, threw the bags in the bag seat, as Dean drove them off towards the next little town, not knowing what was in store for them.

Hours later, as Sam slept against the window, Dean grumbled about how if his brother drooled, he would still be the one who would have to clean his beloved Impala. After all, their father had left it to him, so Dean felt it was his job, no his blood duty, to protect this car. He had already rebuilt it enough time to call her his own, but deep down he still felt like then eight year old sitting in the motel parking lot playing with the steering wheel while his dad checked in.

As he drove along a solemn road, he allowed himself to think back to the good old days, before his mother died a fiery death in his brother's nursery. Smiling to himself, at the few things he remembered, made him feel almost as if he were back there. He almost didn't hear the unmistakable sound of the wings of an angel, leaning in the back seat of his car.

"Cass," he said, his voice gruff with annoyance that almost reached the point of anger. "Where have you been? We needed your help on case weeks ago. And don't give me the whole civil war in heaven crap. You managed to get here in worse cases before, I know you could if you wanted too." Cass sighed, knowing he couldn't deny what Dean was saying. "I've got a case for you and Sam. A manor in 1974. There'll be a man there, with a young girl, about twenty four. They're on our side, so don't hurt them," Cass said quickly knowing he would have to repeat it over and over again before Dean would understand. So instead, he put two fingers on each of their foreheads, closed his eyes, and when Dean and Sam awoke, it was a period before they were born.