Missy had immediately squeezed her eyes shut when Dean pulled the trigger, and was hoping this death would be much quicker and less painful than her last few. Even as the shot rang out throughout the warehouse, though, she felt no pain, and she was pretty sure she wasn't dying. Cautiously, she opened one eye, then another. They widened when she realized Dean hadn't shot her, nor had he ever intended too – instead, the vortex manipulator that had been fastened to her wrist mere moments ago was in pieces on the floor.

"Nice shot," Petra muttered to Dean.

"My vortex manipulator!" Missy cried, eyes wide at the smoking, sparking pile of parts. "Oh, I'd rather you would have just shot me! Have you any idea how difficult it is to find one of these?!"

Dean lowered the smoking pistol. "Yeah, I do. Looks like you're stuck here."

Missy glared at him. "What do you want?"

"We need to know where we can find Rowena."

"Fine. She's –"

"We need to know where we can find Rowena without Amara."

Missy pursed her lips. "Hmph. Don't know why you're scared. You're the one Amara wants, after all."

"Just tell me."

Missy crossed her arms. "I thought you didn't come here to ask for my help."

"We didn't," Dean retorted. "We came here to make you help. Tell us where to find Rowena and we'll be on our way."

"I can assure you, Rowena is the last person you want to be near right now. She's furious with the lot of you. Wants all of you dead, especially Lucifer. To go to her would be to commit suicide."

"Lady, I don't got all day," Dean said impatiently.

"No, but now thanks to you, I certainly do," Missy retorted, taking another sad look at the vortex manipulator.

"Missy," Dean snapped.

"Why should you want to find her anyway?" Missy narrowed her eyes. "Are you going to kill her?"

"We're not gonna kill her," Dean sighed in exhaustion.

"Why ever not?" Missy asked, pacing towards the window and glancing out of it. Dean's finger twitched on his gun, uneasy. "She's certainly warranted reason for you to want to kill her. She slaughtered an entire hotel full of people, conspired with Lucifer, tried to kill this one," she turned, giving a nod at Petra. "So you must be very desperate to need her."

"It's complicated," Petra said.

"Complicated?" Missy snorted. "Building the Roman aqueduct was complicated. Alexander the Great, he was complicated. Rowena isn't complicated. She's incredibly simple – she wants power. But people get in her way, so she gets rid of them. People betray her, she gets angry. When Lucifer betrayed her to protect your little party, she said . . . oh, what was it? 'Go big or go home', I think."

"Do you ever shut up?" Dean huffed, rolling his eyes.

"So that's why she's with Amara now?" Petra asked. She frowned. "Why aren't you?"

"Rowena likes chaos. I like chaos. But Amara . . ." Missy tsked, sitting on the windowsill. "Amara wants destruction. I quite like Earth, you see. I've grown fond of it, especially as of late. There are vicious animals and peaches. Did you know Earth is the only planet you can get peaches on?"

"So you ditched them?" Dean chuckled at the irony. "You're not scared of Rowena?"

"Rowena thinks I blew up in that little bonfire," Missy waved her hand. "She was becoming very intense. She wouldn't even let me kill you!" she said in annoyance, pointing at Petra, and Dean's finger twitched again. "It was all 'codex this' and 'revenge that'. I hate to admit it, but I do have a very short attention span. It got old. So as far as Rowena knows, I'm dead."

"Then you don't know where she is," Dean said. "So I can just shoot you."

"I never said I didn't know where she is," Missy continued, examining her nails.

"Go ahead and shoot her, Dean," Petra glared, getting annoyed.

"No problem," Dean agreed.

"Hold on!" Missy exclaimed, holding her hands up. "I do know where she is. And I will tell you where she is – on one condition."

"Shocker," Dean said sarcastically.

"There's something here on Earth that I need," Missy continued. "Something important to me. If I tell you where to find the witch, you have to find this object for me."

"Why can't you find it yourself?" Petra asked, half out of curiosity and half out of annoyance.

"I have a lot going on, and the journey to obtain the object will be . . . challenging," Missy replied.

"We don't have time for any scavenger hunting," Dean retorted.

"I assure you, I'm willing to wait until all this nasty end-of-the-earth business is taken care of," Missy said, leaning forward. "It's a fair deal. I tell you what you want to know and you help me."

Petra and Dean glanced at each other. It was risky as hell, but at the same time, it would be easy just to go along with it and get their information without any bloodshed. Besides, Petra and Dean had seen their fair share of crazy things – how hard could Missy's request be?

"So," Missy said, smiling. "Do we have a deal?"


"Missy just gave you Rowena's location? Just like that?"

Clara was surprised. Missy was notoriously tricky, and to just hand over valuable information wasn't the norm for her.

It was the next morning, and everyone had arrived back to the bunker safely. Dean was currently sitting at the table, a cup of black coffee in front of him. Sam was finally getting some sleep, and Clara intended to allow him to stay that way for a while. The Doctor was flipping through some books on Sam and Dean's shelf as he waited for River to finish some calibrations in the TARDIS.

"We had to bargain a bit," Dean said, yawning and scratching the back of his head. "She said she'd give us the info if we helped her find something."

"What?" the Doctor frowned, now intrigued.

"She didn't say," Dean shrugged, taking a drink of coffee. "Just gave us a set of coordinates. Oh, uh, and this thing." He reached for his dufflebag, which he had thrown on the table the night before, shortly before collapsing into bed, and unzipped it. He withdrew a long, heavy sash made of golden material. Clara frowned and examined it for a moment before the Doctor quickly moved across the room, taking it and running his hand over it. His large brows furrowed together.

"The Sash of Rassilon," he frowned, complexed by the appearance of the fabric. "I haven't seen this is years." He lifted it, sniffing it, before his frown deepened. He slid his sonic sunglasses on, scanning the sash as he continued. "If Missy gave you this she must be after an eye."

"An eye?" Clara raised her eyebrows.

"Eye of Harmony," Doctor muttered, lifting and turning the sash.

Clara looked surprised. "But the Eye is in your TARDIS," she argued. "I saw it myself."

"There is more than one Eye, of course, but they're incredibly rare," the Doctor continued, taking his glasses off and laying the sash on the table.

"What would Missy need an Eye of Harmony for?" Clara mused.

"Whatever the reason may be, she won't be able to control it," the Doctor continued. "Not without the Rod of Rassilon. And the Rod has been missing for years, it was stolen and then disappeared."

"What is this Eye thing?" Dean frowned.

"The Eye of Harmony is a power source of extreme proportion," the Doctor explained.

"Which is why he has one in his TARDIS," Clara added.

"But if they're not used properly, it could be disastrous," the Doctor continued with a pointed glance at his companion. "Whatever Missy means to do with it, it's not good."

"But it's like you said," Clara replied, glancing at the Doctor. "Missy can't use it without the Rod."

"I need to do some looking into this," the Doctor said, casting another look at the sash. "For now, though, you have the information you need. So, shall we go witch hunting?"

Clara and Dean exchanged hesitant looks.

"It's now or never," Clara sighed.

Dean nodded and stood. "I'll wake the others."


Rowena sat at the table in the basement of the warehouse. It was a dank, moldy place, covered in graffiti and dust. A rat scuttled across the rafters, stopping once to scratch the fleas from its mangy body. It was a disgusting hole of a place, but it was the only place she was safe.

Rowena sat with her head in her hands, heart racing. Things were becoming too serious. Amara was dangerous . . . and here she was helping her. The end of the world was coming . . . why hadn't Rowena stopped for a moment to realize that the end of the world meant the end of her?

"If you've come to mock me, Dean, you can save your breath," Rowena said icily, not even bothering to turn around.

"I oughta kill you and just be done with it," the Winchester replied, stepping out of the shadows.

"Then do it," Rowena chuckled bitterly. "Better to go now than wait for the world to become a black hole of Amara's own creation." She stood, not putting any pressure on her left leg as she turned to face Dean, revealing a large bruise spreading across her face.

"Who busted you up?" Dean asked, not really caring. Bitch deserves it.

"Amara has a temper," Rowena remarked, limping forward a bit before grimacing and holding onto the table. "She doesn't like being disagreed with, and she doesn't appreciate suggestions."

"Well," Dean said, looking her up and down. "Karma's a bitch, bitch." Classic.

Rowena arched an eyebrow. "How'd you get in here?"

Dean lifted his wrist, revealing a bulky accessory. Rowena scoffed.

"Vortex Manipulation," she snorted. "Fake magic. I imagine you got that from him? The Doctor?" she practically sneered his name.

"River Song," Dean corrected. "You've probably heard of her."

"Nope," Rowena retorted. "Never heard of that blonde hackit whore. What do you want?"

"Look at you, Rowena. You're scared outta your mind. You know Amara's bad news, that's why you're hiding down here."

"You're here to try and sway me towards helping you?" Rowena laughed bitterly. "I'd rather watch the world burn than help you. Any of you."

"We thought you might say that."

The groaning, wheezing sound of the TARDIS filled the room, light blinking in and out of existence until it was a consistent shining beacon. The TARDIS finished materializing, and Rowena sighed, closing her eyes for a long moment. "Hell's bells," she whispered in exhaustion as the door creaked open.