"In a morbid condition, dreams are often distinguished by their remarkably graphic, vivid, and extremely lifelike quality. The resulting picture is sometimes monstrous, but the setting and the whole process of the presentation sometimes happen to be so probable, and with details so subtle, unexpected, yet artistically consistent with the whole fullness of the picture, that even the dreamer himself would be unable to invent them in reality, though he were as much an artist as Pushkin or Turgenev. Such dreams, morbid dreams, are always long remembered and produce a strong impression on the disturbed and already excited organism of the person . . ."

Crowley read from the page, and though his lips formed the words, his mind wandered. He had already read this book, of course, many years ago, but it seemed like something Amelia might like so he now sat beside her bed reading to her. He trailed off, though, when he noticed Sam standing in the door.

"So," Crowley said, closing the book and setting it on the nightstand. "The great moose returns."

Sam crossed his arms as he entered the room, looking down at Amelia. "She's still under, huh?"

"No change," Crowley said, standing.

"You've been here the whole time?"

"Off and on. I do have a kingdom to run, you know." He pulled the blanker up over Amelia a bit when he noticed goosebumps on her arms.

"God, she looks like Clara," Sam muttered, mostly to himself.

"Thank God for that, too," Crowley agreed. His raised his eyebrows. "Speaking of, I suppose she's returned as well?"

"We're all back," Sam said, crossing his arms and glaring down at the demon. "And here's what I want to know – why the hell did you let Dean run off with that Mark on his arm? You know the way he is, he could have hurt something, or worse, and that would have been on you, Crowley."

"Crying shame, too, seeing as I'm such a people person," Crowley retorted.

"It's your fault that mark is there anyway!" Sam snapped. He took a deep breath and tried to lower his voice. "If we don't do something, Dean is going to crash and burn. You get that? And if he does . . . well, I'm coming for you first." There was no hint of remorse or bluffing in his eyes, and Crowley almost felt fear.

Crowley narrowed his eyes. "And what exactly do you expect me to do, Sam?"

"Anything," Sam said. "And I mean anything." He glanced once more at Amelia and left the room.


"Dean. Dean, you need to come inside."

Dean heard Jo talking, but made no move to leave his position on the roof of the bunker. The wind was blowing fiercely and the weather was calling for a tornado watch that could very well develop into a warning at any moment.

"Dean," Jo sighed again, walking against the wind towards him.

"Go inside, Jo," Dean mumbled.

"No," she said, grabbing his arm. He sighed and faced her.

"Look," he said. "Just because Sam is back – it doesn't change anything. I still killed him, and I still almost killed you."

"Dean . . ."

"You could have died!" he exploded, his eyes wet. "I killed Sam, and I would have killed you too! And I didn't have to, Jo, I . . ." he swallowed, shaking his head. "I wanted to. I wanted to slaughter everyone in the bunker and then laugh at the blood smeared on the floors. Do you hear how screwed up I am? Even I'm afraid of me!"

Jo watched with sadness as he yelled all of this to the wind and his eyes grew wet. When he sat on the edge of the roof and buried his head in his hands, Jo sat next to him and put her hand on his knee.

"You said nothing changed," she said softly. "You're right. Because I still love you as much as I loved you before you had this mark on your arm." She rubbed his arm and kissed his hand.

"The last time you saw me without the mark, Jo, you were a ghost and I was on trial for my life."

"I know."

Dean looked at her, the hurt and pain in his eyes still strong, but the love was there too. Jo leaned into him and pressed her lips to his. Dean returned the affections without much enthusiasm, so Jo could tell he was still upset.

"Now come on," Jo said. "Let's get inside and say bye to Sam and Clara."

"What? Why, where are they going?"

"Well, seeing as Sam is back from being . . . now that Sam is back, him and Clara are taking a vacation."

"Oh," Dean said, relieved that his brother was taking some time. "Where are they going? Florida? Mexico City?"

"Well, I'm not for sure," Jo said as she linked her hand with his and led him back inside. "But I'm pretty sure I heard the Doctor say something about a planet made of gems."


Clara held Sam's hand tightly as she guided him towards the door of the TARDIS.

"Close your eyes," she said, and he grinned and did so.

"Keep them closed," Clara continued, opening the door and guiding him outside. "Don't open them yet."

"Clara, where are we?" Sam laughed.

"Do you trust me?" Clara asked as she stopped him.

"Of course," he smiled.

"Take my hands," she said, and he did. She grinned. "Look down."

Sam did so, his eyes widening. Straight below him was a raging ocean, though the color was tinted due to the pure ruby bridge they stood on. He looked at Clara in awe, and saw mountains in the distance made up of glittering topaz and sapphire. Rainbows were cast all around the sky and reflected on the ocean.

"It's one of my favorite places to visit," Clara began excitedly. "The sand is made up of diamond shards and pieces so you have to wear shoes, but it's brilliant! That's why the ocean shines like that, from all the gem particles in it, and this bridge is a totally natural formation stretching from one island to the other –"

She was cut off when Sam took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. She replied eagerly.

The TARDIS door slammed behind them, and they turned. The Doctor and River had a picnic basket in hand and a bucket with two bottles of champagne. Sherlock and Irene followed, glancing around in awe. They had been invited at the last moment when Sherlock and Irene reunited for the first time since she had left to track down the bad guys.

"Hurry up, you two! We're going to miss the sunset if we don't hurry!" the Doctor called.

The six of them hiked up a crystal path to a large slab of ruby, where River laid down a blanket and they all sat down. She poured champagne and passed it around, and served lunch. The group laughed and ate, enjoying each others company and then watching the sun set over the ocean. Dazzling rainbows and sparkles were sent scattering across the land, and Clara sighed serenely as she leaned into Sam.

"We'll catch up, we want to walk around for a bit," Clara told the Doctor an hour later as they packed up their things.

"Alright, but take the sonic," the Doctor said begrudgingly. "And be back in a half hour!"

"Doctor," River cleared her throat. "I think they want some privacy . . . do you understand?"

The Doctor frowned, then gasped. "What! No! Clara doesn't – Clara doesn't do – Right, Clara?"

Clara bit her lip and tried not to laugh.

"Come on, Doctor," River said, pulling her husband towards the TARDIS. "We need some privacy ourselves."


The waves crashed in the distance and a thousand stars shone in the sky, dotted between the four moons lighting up the sky. Clara smiled brightly as she laid her head on Sam's bare chest as they laid back on a blanket, with another draped over them. Their legs tangled together and their breathing matched perfectly as they stared up at the sky. After several blissful moments, they stood and pulled their clothes on.

Sam frowned, though, when he heard sniffling.

"Hey," he said, pulling Clara closer. She buried her head in his chest as she tried to control her sobbing. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"It just feels like a dream," she choked. "I thought I lost you, Sam. You were dead and there was nothing I could do about it. I was so lost, and I . . . I did things. I killed a lot of things, Sam. Things that looked human. Just because of this anger I felt."

"We've all been there," Sam told her quietly. "All of us here, this screwed up little family? We've all been there. It's impossible to not go there. But listen, I'm back and you won't have to do those things anymore, okay? I'm never going to leave you again." He took a deep breath. "As a matter of fact, you'll never have to be alone again."

Clara looked up at him with huge, wet, questioning eyes. Sam reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Clara's eyes got even bigger and she covered her mouth with her hand in shock as tears welled in her eyes.

"I know it's not as big as the other diamonds on this planet," Sam said, opening the box and trying to ignore the thumping of his nervous heart. "But I hope you like it anyway." He swallowed. "Clara, will you marry me?"

Clara nodded, speechless, and watched him slide the ring onto her finder. She stared at it for several long moments before laughing in joy and kissing him deeply.

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, yes, I will. Oh, Sam!" He lifted her off the ground and kissed her with passion and joy.

"We have to tell the Doctor," Clara said in excitement.

Sam hoisted Clara onto his back, and she laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, admiring the bright ring on her finger.