It was a cloudy day in New York City. The Doctor and his companion were sitting on a bench as they waited for the two Winchesters to retrieve their vehicle from parking. A vehicle they had heard quite a bit about ever since they had gotten off the plan. Dean talked about his 1967 Chevrolet Impala the same way the Doctor talked about his telephone box. As they were walking out of the airport earlier, a statement Clara made described the entire situation quite well in the Doctor's opinion.

"Boys and their toys."

Well, it was quite fitting, he had to admit.

The first thing the Doctor did upon getting off the plane involved dismantling the cybermite. It was best to get something like that out of the way before it became a significant problem. He knew he should probably be wondering why a cybermite had ended up on a airliner in the first place, but he had a lot on his mind currently. First of his problems was that a demon had his TARDIS. Well, a self-proclaimed demon, at least. The Winchesters also seemed to be going along with this whole monsters are real thing. Which lead to his second problem; both Sam and Dean Winchester didn't seem like the most stable of individuals. Which was saying something, coming from the Doctor who was pretty insane himself. He wasn't an expert in medical problems, but he knew stress when he saw it, and Sam and Dean had seen more problems in their lives than the average timelord. Probably lived through more. The pair might be in their mid-30's, but both of them had the air of battle-worn soldiers who had seen multiple wars and unspeakable horrors. Not to mention, while they had been on the plane ride, more than once he had noticed both of them basically zone out of reality on a few occasions. Not like someone who was lost in thought; he even did that sometimes. No, when he saw Sam or Dean zone out, their eyes weren't seeing anything. It was like the people you see in elderly homes, who are no longer able to comprehend the reality of what was going on around them all the time. That kind of thing he saw in people -not just humans- who had been pushed past their psychological breaking point, and were somehow still moving forward.

The Winchesters were proof enough to start making the Doctor start to realize that they might be digging into some very dark corners of the universe in the near future, and the Doctor wasn't quite sure he wanted to drag his companion into this. Whatever this was exactly. He was still a bit confused about everything that was going on in general, as he had no experience with this sort of thing. Well, nothing he could place in his memory at the moment. Something else was bugging him. If this is as dangerous as it seems to be, I would be surprised I haven't encountered anything connected to this, he glanced up as the car Dean had described pulled up in front of the place their bench was. Clara had already stood up, picking up her bag. Something as big as demons walking the Earth, or at least aliens who are under the illusion that they are demons, is something I would notice. Especially if they are posing a threat to humans. He resigned himself that he would figure that out later. He hopped to his feet, refocusing on the situation at hand. As his companion got into the car, the Doctor studied the black vehicle with a raised eyebrow, before getting into the seat next to Clara.

"I like your car. Not as fast as a TARDIS, mind you, but it is still quite beautiful," he remarked to Dean as the car began moving forward. From one of the car's mirrors, he thought he saw the beginnings of a crooked smile on the hunter's face. He must've said something right. For once.

The Doctor glanced over at his companion, smiling at her. The brown-haired woman had been staring out the window, but she glanced over in his direction when he looked over to her. She had a sort of distant look in her gaze, though he didn't think anything of it. He had probably just interrupted a deep thought. Oh well. Might as well fill up the space with words. "Clara, it's the land of opportunities, you know. America, when was the last time you were in America?"

Clara for a moment, clearly taking a moment to think about it. "Well, I've never been to the US personally, although my echoes might be a different story."

For the slightest moment, he had forgotten about her echoes. Of course she had been in America. If he had, she had at some point. Had this visit to the Big Apple triggered any of her memories about her past lives? It was a question that was currently going to be left unsaid and unmentioned. It was better that way, as long as she didn't see anything too significant to her echoes. The Doctor would notice if she needed assistance with her echoes... right? Admittedly, he was a smidge worried that she was starting to be able to hide if she remembered anything. It meant he didn't know what she had seen of his past and what hadn't been seen. And there were a number of things he definitely didn't want his companion to be a witness to. He simply gave her a nod, before he looked over at the Winchesters. Classic rock blared from the speakers. This broke him from his train of thought about Clara, and he remembered the much, much more important thing.

Demon or alien, whatever was wearing Canton's skin had his TARDIS and knew how to fly it.

"Is there any significant reason Crowley would want to have my TARDIS of all things? What would do with it?" His answer came from Dean, who was tapping out a beat on the steering wheel as he drove.

"Well, the little douchebag has been after the tablets. We know he is currently after the demon tablet, which is with Kevin. Where ever the hell Kevin ran off to," he paused for a moment, glancing at his brother. "As for the, um, other tablet, it could literally be anywhere. However, it's definitely not in Crowley's hands, as I think we would know that." Dean turned a corner a bit sharper than necessary, taking a back road out of the city. Sam spoke up, glancing back at the two in the back seat. Despite the fact the Doctor wasn't aware of this, both Dean and Sam had made and agreement it would be best to not mention the angels yet. If the dude was having trouble with believing in demons...

"A friend of ours is keeping it away from Crowley. He's MIA at the moment, though he'll pop up sooner or later. He always does," Sam responded.

The Doctor raised a non-existent eyebrow at this before responding, "You didn't exactly answer my question. Why would he want the TARDIS?"

"Sorry, Doc. Haven't got a clue," Dean responded, not really sounding too sorry, "I have a feeling we will figure it out soon."

The bit of talking upon leaving New York had been almost immediately replaced with an awkward silence and more classic rock than Clara had heard played in years. Neither party within the car had enough trust in the other group to really start up a conversation. It was enough to make Clara feel both uncomfortable and tired. She had slept quite a bit on the plane; however there didn't seem to be a better option other than sleeping at the moment. The trip was almost over, though was probably going to last a bit longer. Sam had mentioned the place they were going was Kanas. It was quite a distance from New York City, obviously. They had only just crossed the state border, heading toward the bunker. The Doctor had been quite lost in his own thoughts ever since he had gotten off the plane earlier, and she didn't have the heart to disturb him. The whole angels and demons thing seemed to have freaked him out a bit. So, Clara leaned her head against the window of the car, listening to the hum of the old car as it drove down the back roads.

Earlier, when she had been on the plane, she had a bit of a scare. When she had fallen asleep the last time, she had a very disjointed dream which she couldn't remember. She had a feeling it might have involved an echo, but it wasn't useful if she couldn't remember a single detail from the dream. Well... no details other than one emotion. Fear. The kind of fear that made you want to curl up in a ball and run away at the same time. It was just a dream. Her thoughts of trying to piece her last dream together soon started to become a bit of a dream in itself.

However, her dozing was interrupted when Dean slammed down on the breaks, sending the car to a screeching halt. Clara had to use her elbow to prevent herself going head first into the back of Dean's seat. On complete instinct, she swung her other hand out and placed it against the Doctor's chest to prevent her friend from going head first into the windshield. The Doctor never wore a seatbelt when he needed to, that was for sure. Her heart leapt into her throat as she felt the car careen to the side.

Dean was swerving the car out of the way of something, she wasn't sure what yet. She was too busy keeping Chin Boy from being tossed out of a window. The moment the vehicle stopped however, she shouted, "What the hell was that for?"

She didn't get a response, as Dean was already out of the car, his brother right behind him. Clara removed her hand from the Doctor's chest, slumping back in the seat momentarily. After a quick check to make sure the timelord was okay, she began in unbuckle, her hand already on the door to push the door open.

"Cas!"

The name ripped through her like a bullet, immediately breaking her consciousness into echoes. It has floated in through the open door of the Impala, but the name was enough to trigger a tidal wave of memories, all from different moments in time, different echoes. It was like a wall of glass had been shattered, tearing her back into the pieces she had been in inside the Doctor's timeline. She froze, every single muscle in her body stiffening and her brown eyes dilating. She was no longer in the Impala. Her echoes pulled her into the past as countless scenes flashed before her eyes.

It was Christmas Eve in 1842, one of the only times the Doctor was aware of her existence before she died. She had been let into the TARDIS, and her echo was looking around in wonder. That ended almost immediately, when she felt hands grab her around her waist, pulling her back. Cold, frozen hands. She was pulled off the cloud, her Doctor screaming her name after her. There was the sound of falling, before the feeling of every bone in her body breaking at once. Everything was blurring into darkness and pain. Through the fence, she saw a man with a coat, watching her.

It was another Christmas Eve, this time in the 1851. She was young, only about 14 in this echo. There was a invasion of Cybermen. The version of the Doctor was the tenth, pin-striped suit and all. He was herding the rest of the children out of, however there was a cyberman raising its blaster at him from behind. He didn't see it. Without a word, Oswin broke from the crowd of children and put herself from between the Doctor and the cyber blast. Her brown eyes flew open in shock as pain coursed through her body. The Doctor didn't notice, but another man in a trench-coat did. The last thing she saw before dying was a shadow bending over her, and a small hint of curiosity entering a set of crystal blue eyes.

It was March, 1942. She was in New York City now. People bustled around her, most smiling. She (her name was Connie now) was smiling too. She was on the arm of a soldier boy, watching a presentation for future technologies. The name of the company and the soldier boy was long forgotten in her mind, however it wasn't significant. As she danced with the man later on that day to a slow tune, she made eye contact with a man with almost familiar blue eyes. Just another face in the crowd, although gave the man a small smile from over the shoulder of the person she was dancing with. He nodded to her, before a dancing couple passed in front of them. The man was gone, and she never saw him again in that echo. Connie didn't live much longer anyways.

It was the year 1968, this time in London again. Her name was Clara again. She was walking to the café she worked at, making soufflés. Unlike her other echoes, this version of herself knew how to make a soufflé without burning it. The Doctor in a huge brown coat ran past her, and some unknown instinct made her drop everything she was doing and chase after him, her long chestnut hair flying behind her. She had almost halved the space between her and the Second Doctor when she tripped over a metal can. Her foot slipped from under her, pain coursing through her probably broken ankle. That didn't stop her, however. She somehow got back to her feet, adrenaline pushing her forward. Her soul focus was to do... something. She didn't know what she had to do she just knew she couldn't stop. Not paying attention, she limped into open road, calling one word that pierced the air. "DOCTOR!" She didn't see the car driving straight for her, moving much too fast to have time to stop. Something pushed into her, but it wasn't the car. A man wearing a trench coat appeared seemingly out of nowhere, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her out of the way of the moving car. This brought her echo to her senses. She looked at the man who saved her, completely shocked and not really sure why. He asked her one question, a childish curiosity in his blue gaze.

"Who are you?"

The scenes began to break up into a less intelligible pattern, breaking up into just quick flashes and images from almost all of her echoes who were on Earth. All of them had seen the figure, however she only ever remembered him intervening once in time for them to speak. The time in 1968 when he saved her from her usual fate.

"Clara Oswin Oswald. You?"

This entire memory episode lasted only a few second, but she pressed a palm to her head, trying to keep her focus. Another puzzle piece that had been missing within her memories had been dropped back into place. It was excruciatingly painful, though at the same time very satisfying. Something was put where it was supposed to be in her mind again. She was supposed to know this.

"Castiel."

The vision was over. Clara looked up saw the worried gaze of the Doctor on her. The timelord had already gotten out of the vehicle, but was looking back in when he realized his companion hadn't followed him. He looked like he was about to ask her what she had seen, like he normally did after she remembered something. Well, when he noticed at least. He didn't always. She knew he was always nervous she was going to see something he didn't want her to see, however impossible it was to avoid that. She had already seen a majority of what he didn't want her to see. Instead of answering, she immediately flung the door open, her eyes widening upon seeing the person she had just remembered injured, with Dean and Sam helping him toward the vehicle. Clara went over to help, just as Castiel looked up. He apparently had not noticed Clara or the Doctor until that moment. The angel froze in his progress toward the Impala, looking as if Clara had unexpectedly sprouted angel wings or something.

"That's... unexpected," he stated after a moment, staring at her like she was a ghost. His blue eyes looked over at Sam and Dean, who were both looking at her as well, then to the man in the bowtie who was standing next to the Impala. It was like he was making sure everyone else saw her too.

"You're telling me," she responded simply, opening the door widely to make it easier for Sam and Dean to get the angel in the back seat.

Dean broke into the conversation, "Hold up. You two know each other? How?"

Castiel answered immediately, his eyes still fixed on Clara. He groaned in pain upon sitting down where Clara had been previously, "It's a long story, one I don't think I completely comprehend at the moment."

"You'll be glad I got the answers we were looking for a while ago, old friend," Clara told him numbly, still getting bits and pieces of events scattering in her mind. The Doctor looked at her from above the roof of the car, his expression clearly saying. Explain.

"Later," she told him softly, walking around to the other side of the car where the Doctor was. She slid back into the car, getting in the uncomfortable middle seat, between the Doctor and Castiel. She was the smallest, anyways. She buckled her seat belt as the car began moving, looking at the angel worriedly. There was a lot of blood. Can he lose that much blood? I haven't seen him lose that much blood before. Why isn't he healing?

"Cas, what happened?"

The question belonged to everyone in the car, but the person who voiced it first was Sam. So, the angel began to go through the events of what had happened. Naomi and Crowley, hiding the angel tablet, escaping... all the recent events that had lead him to laying in the middle of a road with a wound in his stomach. Sam had given Cas a towel to stop the blood flow. By the time they pulled up to the bunker, Cas had covered the basics. Through most of the time, he was looking between the Doctor and Clara in a bit of a surprised way. A surprised as the angel could look, at least.

She helped him out of the car with Dean's assistance, and Sam walked with the Doctor to the door of the bunker to unlock it, holding both Dean's bag and his own. The Doctor rolled Clara's bag behind him. With the day she had been having, she didn't find it too unusual for everyone to be going to stay in a abandoned-looking bunker. She had to admit, though, she was very surprised by the inside of the place. The walls were lined with books, and the ceilings were high and beautiful. The Doctor looked like a kid in a candy store. She didn't have much time to look, however, as Dean was already leading Cas to a bedroom down the hall. By now, the angel was only just clinging to consciousness. For the first time, Clara realized Dean looked genuinely worried about the well-being of the angel. She saw the same worry she had reflected in his eyes.

"Come on, Cas. Stay with us," Clara heard Dean grumble as they lowered the angel down onto the bed. The moment the angel was set down, the hunter went to one of the cabinets and began searching through them for something. Clara pulled up a chair opposite from where Dean was, wanting to stick around but not get in the way.

"Will he be alright?" Clara asked quietly, her brown eyes wide. Dean apparently found what he was looking for, before sitting next to Cas and beginning to stitch the wound up. For some reason, Clara didn't feel uncomfortable at the sight. She felt well accustomed to the sight, and she wasn't quite sure if she should be freaked out about that or not. Dean responded after a moment, rather gruffly.

"He's an angel, as you apparently already seem to know. He'll be up on his feet by tomorrow, and probably be healed by the end of the month. No need to worry." When he was done stitching the wound of the angel, he pulled up a chair and looked across the sleeping angel at Clara. His green eyes met Clara's coffee brown.

"The real question is, how exactly to you know Cas? He isn't exactly the most social people I know." He looked at Clara as if studying her, trying to figure her out. It was a look she was quite used to receiving by now.

"It's a long story..."

"I've got all day, sweetheart."

She looked up from the angel at the elder of the Winchesters. There wasn't any point in not telling him, from her point of view. He would understand as a hunter, right? He had probably heard stranger. Or at least closer to it. She opened her mouth to speak, before she was interrupted by a bowtie-wearing man who was now standing in the doorway.

"Could I borrow my companion for an moment?" he questioned with a pleasant smile. She glanced over at Dean, who was already back to tending to Cas' wounds. He didn't say anything. There was obviously still a lot of tension between Dean and the Doctor. She had a feeling he wanted the same thing Dean wanted, an explanation. However, you could never be sure with the Doctor. Not to mention it was going to be a much tough time explaining an angel of the Lord to the Doctor. It was because of this she got up and followed the Doctor out.

"Seems like I'm not needed for now here. I'm coming..." She quickly followed the Doctor down the hall into a spare room.