Every time Rowena saw the Doctor, he had a different face.

The first time, he'd been older. A short man, with black hair and dark eyes, running around with a young Scottish boy. He'd been a pain in her arse then, too – after releasing several pigs (formerly villagers that had angered Rowena) from a slaughtering pen, he'd run onto the gallows and revealed that the one being charged with witchcraft (a neighboring woman Rowena had spent a lot of time framing) was innocent, the villagers put two and two together and discovered it was Rowena who was the true witch. They exiled Rowena, chasing her away, and she left everything behind – her home, her belongings, and even her own wee son.

As if that weren't enough, she then encountered the Doctor again. She hadn't know it was him at first – he was a different man from before, this one a eccentric looking fellow with a long, colorful scarf and eyes mad with excitement. He caught Rowena – then living as a rich noblewoman in France – practicing spells on some local street urchins. Rowena knew if he blew her cover, she'd have to give up her lavish lifestyle. Instead, she waited until he confronted her – along with a mousy woman and a metal dog, of all things – and then she attacked. But the Doctor was evasive. She attempted a simple spell, something to make their deaths look like an accident. She'd thrown the woman from the window, and attempted to stop the Doctors heart.

Rowena had been expecting there to be two.

Underestimating the Doctor proved to be a mistake. In her attempt to flee, a lantern had been knocked over, and flames billowed up the curtains. Rowena made her escape using the flames and smoke as her cover, only to find the Doctor's companion emerge from a blue box, unharmed. Rowena had desperately wanted to investigate, as she remembered seeing that same box once before.

She spent the next several hundred years or so in hiding. In this time, she learned of the Doctor, and who he really was. Rowena had considered taking revenge, but ultimately decided to lay low.

But then, of course, he showed up once more. Rowena was making a name for herself in the Coven. People were beginning to fear her, to respect her – it wouldn't be long before she had the whole thing under her control. Then, she saw it. The blue box.

The Doctor was younger this time. He was tall, with short, cropped hair and a blonde girl he seemed absolutely enamored with. They were sneaking around the Coven, and Rowena was unable to hide or escape. She confronted them.

The Doctor had been a fool. Foolish enough to offer to help Rowena. She'd laughed him off, claiming she wasn't the one who needed help. But Rowena didn't attempt to kill him – she wanted that box, and she knew she'd have to go through him to get it.

He took her bait, following her into the Coven, where eleven witches were prepared to spring their trap. The Doctor was captured easily, and Rowena was filled with pride as her fellow witches praised her. The Doctor had been unusually calm as they prepared to dissect him, but Rowena had been sure she'd finally won.

She hadn't been counting on the blonde.

The little prat had come crashing through the window, startling the witches as she stumbled to stand up.

"R-right!" she'd said, holding up an odd looking weapon that she didn't seem to know how to use. "Now, I don't know what this does, but Jack says it'll put a decent sized hole in anything. So – don't move!"

Instead of praising his rescuer, the Doctor had scolded the girl, chastising her using a weapon, and the two began to banter right in the midst of danger.

It was here the witches discovered magic didn't work on time travelers. With wide eyes, the witches retreated as quickly as they could. Rowena had angrily shoved the blonde aside in an attempt to get to the box before they could. She needed a distraction, however – she was so desperate for the box, she didn't care who she had to go through to get to it. So she did something that would eventually be her downfall.

She cast the attack dog spell on three of the fleeing witches. As the witches went rabid with rage, attacking the girl and the Doctor, Rowena made her escape. She found the box easily, and wasn't surprised it was locked. However, she was enraged to find the lock magic proof – without the key, she couldn't get in.

She faced off with the Doctor, who was disgusted and distraught that Rowena would sentence her own coven members to death the way she had. Knowing she'd been beat – again – Rowena's anger got the better of her. She threw every spell she had at them, despite them not working, cursing them and berating them as they ran.

She'd never seen them again. Until now.

Missy had told her all about the Doctor. Everything. But even still, he was an unwelcome sight as he stepped through the door of the TARDIS.

"If you think I'll be intimidated into helping whatever harebrained scheme you've come up with," she began, balling up her fists in anger. "Then you'll be disappointed."

"Oh, you'll hear us out," The Doctor replied.

"You?" Rowena hissed, spinning to look at him. "No. Never. After the things you've done to me, I would rather watch the world burn. And you with it."

"Jesus, do you ever stop talking?" Dean rolled his eyes. "You're gonna help us."

"You'll force me too," Rowena retorted, narrowing her eyes. "Clara, yes? That's what you're going to do? Have her boss me around and do as you say?"

"No," Dean said, looking amused. "We're not idiots. You said it yourself, you'd rather kill yourself than help up. You'll help us because you want to."

"Not interested."

Dean nodded, not surprised, before retreating to the TARDIS. Rowena watched warily as he returned a few moments later, a sleek iPad in his hand. He held it out to Rowena. She glanced at it, and then at him, frowning. "What's this?" she demanded.

Dean looked annoyed to be handing it over. "It's Charlie's decoder," he said reluctantly. "All of her notes and translations." He sneered at the spark in Rowena's eyes as she looked at the tablet. "Yeah, that's right. All that power you wanted."

Rowena swallowed, reaching out slowly.

Dean suddenly snatched it back. "Then again," he considered. "That power would be pretty useless when the world is – what'd you call it? A black hole of the world burning? Wouldn't you say, Doc?"

"Very useless indeed," the Doctor replied casually, hands in his pockets and keeping his eyes locked on Rowena. "What use is a book of spells when there's no world left to use them in?"

"You've made your point," Rowena snapped, eyes on the tablet. She hesitated. "What's the plan?" she broke down and asked.

"We're busting Michael out of the cage," Dean said, and Rowena raised her eyebrows. "We've already got a vessel and the ingredients, we just need someone strong enough to get the Cage open and Michael out."

Rowena considered it. This was a stupid idea. She'd been fighting the Doctor for years, Clara wore the ring, and no way was Dean going to let Rowena get away after what she'd done to his girlfriend. Still, if she had the proper materials, and could convince Dean to sweeten the deal . . .

With a sigh of defeat, she closed her eyes. "Damn Winchesters," she cried under her breath. She looked up at Dean, knowing he'd won. "What do you need me to do?"

Clara lay in the darkness of the room, staring up at the ceiling. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and she played through a thousand different scenarios of how tomorrow was going to turn out.

Raising an arch angel from the cage was no easy task.

They'd held off for a day, Rowena claiming that she needed to rest and prepare in order to perform such a spell. Clara was okay with that. She knew a storm was brewing, and things were about to go into overload all at once, so she was perfectly content to take these moments and spend them wrapped in the warm arms of Sam Winchester.

He must have sensed her restlessness, as he pulled her closer and kissing her hair.

"After this is over," Clara started quietly, laying against him. "If you could go anywhere, any place at all . . . where would it be?"

"Honestly?" he considered for a moment. "Probably this bed. Right here, with you."

Clara grinned, propping herself up to look at him in the dim light. "A whole universe full of opportunities and you go with that chat-up line?"

He grinned, toying with her hair. "Alright, Miss Oswald," he continued. "Where would you go?"

She settled back against him, going through a mental list of all of the places she'd been, and where she'd want to go again – especially with Sam at her side.

"There's this planet," she began. "In the Haldstrom system. There are all of these fields of luminescent grass, and at night the pollen makes everything glow, the trees, the mountains, even the animals. If you run through the fields, even the air glows. There's a huge, year-round market, hundreds of miles long, and there are all sorts of races and people. It's always peaceful; everyone trades, and gets along. We didn't stay there long, the Doctor said it was too boring for him, but . . . I could use a little boring right about now." She sat up again, looking at Sam. "We should go. Once we deal with Amara and get rid of Lucifer, let's just go. Let's jump from planet to planet and never stop."

Sam grinned, amused. "How's the Doctor going to feel about using his TARDIS to chauffer us around?"

"We'll steal it if we have to," Clara teased mischievously, and Sam laughed, pulling her to him to lay a gentle, lingering kiss on her lips. He pulled away after a moment, stroking her hair and staring into those huge brown eyes he adored so much.

"You want to go planet hopping, let's go planet hopping," he agreed. "I'd follow you anywhere. I'd follow you to the moon if I had too."

Clara grimaced. "Not the moon," she said, wrinkling her nose up. "Bad memories."

Sam laughed again, unsure as to rather or not she was serious, and kissed her again. Clara sighed happily, laying her hands against his face.

"Mm." She frowned, pulling away. "Sam, you're burning up," she said, laying her hand on his forehead. "Your fever's back again. I thought that would stop once Lucifer stopped sending you the visions."

Go ahead, Lucifer whispered in the back of Sam's mind. Tell her how weak you really are. Tell her what'll happen to you if she does decide to get rid of me.

Sam set his jaw in a straight line, and then faked a smile. "It's just really warm in here," he said, kissing her forehead. "I feel fine. How about some air, huh?"

"Sure," Clara said, looking unconvinced but standing and turning the ceiling fan on. She curled back up in bed, watching him carefully. "You know you can tell me anything. Right?"

"Of course," Sam promised. "Really, I'm okay. I'm just worried about tomorrow."

"Well, no point in getting worked up over it. I guess we'd both better get some rest," Clara admitted, laying back down. They linked fingers, and Clara closed her eyes as Sam stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

"I bet you'd just love to run away from earth," Lucifer commented, growing steadily louder. "No demons blood in space, eh, Sammy? No angels, no demons, no witches, no problems. Sounds too good to be true, huh? Just you, all that open space, and Clara."

Sam suppressed an annoyed sigh and closed his eyes, concentrating on sleeping, focusing on Clara's soft breathes beside him.

"Too bad she'll be dead soon."

Sam opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, and accepting that he wasn't going to be getting any sleep that night.

River had a hard time even attempting to try to sleep when she knew there was something wrong with the Doctor.

And she always knew.

She tied her dressing gown over her silk pajamas and left her room on board the TARDIS, weaving in and out of hallways and passages, her bare feet quiet against the cool mental floor. It didn't take her long to find the Doctor in the library, sitting at a desk and pouring over books. Hundreds of them were stacked around him, and River didn't even have to glance at the titles to know they were all lore on demons.

"Sweetie," she sighed after a moment of watching him flip through the pages.

"River," he greeted her, not looking up from her books. "Can't sleep?"

She smiled, a bit sadly. "No. Doctor, even you need to rest sometimes."

"No I don't, of course I don't," he murmured, turning another page. River approached, leaning over him and gently closing the book. The Doctor sat up straighter, staring off into the distance for a few long moments before going to sit on some stairs, resting his head in his hands.

River suppressed a sigh as she went to sit beside him, folding her hands in her lap and sitting there, just being a comforting, familiar presence.

"There has to be something," he muttered after a moment, looking up. "Anything."

"You can't save everyone, my love," River said sadly.

"Everyone, more like anyone," the Doctor replied bitterly. "Now Clara, before that Amy and Rory –"

"Made their own choice," River finished gently, folding her hands over his

" – and you," the Doctor finished, looking at her. River tried for a small smile. "I couldn't save you from the library, River, I'm so sorry."

"Hush," she told him, squeezing his hands. "It was worth it."

"River . . ." The Doctor looked her in the eyes. "How did you come back, where did you come from?"

River tried for another smile. "Spoilers," she replied simply.

"Your diary, where is it?"

"There isn't one."

"There's always one."

"Doctor . . ." River gazed at him, her expression a mixture of pain and affection. She shook her head. "Not this time."

"Are you real?"

"Yes."

"River . . ." he started again. He stared off into the library, unable to make himself look at her. "Is this it for us?"

She blinked a few times, willing the tears to stay back as she swallowed the painful lump in her throat. "Yes," she whispered.

He nodded, having already known the answer, and held her hands tighter. River hid the pain in her face by laying her head on his shoulder, sharing in his grief and worry, and just being there – even if it was for one last time.