John felt like he couldn't breathe. Mary was awake but was reading in bed, heavily bandaged and a black eye but she was still so beautiful that he couldn't look away.

He didn't understand, what the hell was happening? Where was he? Why was he seeing this? Did that little ball in the bunker kill him and he's in heaven?

A doctor was coming up towards the room so he forced himself to back away from the room, glancing at the room number and committing it to memory before he turned and left, feeling as if each step was like there was a boulder tied to each of his feet.

Nothing made sense, why was Mary here young and alive? He glanced down at his arm once more, noting that the numbers had decreased again. From 24:00 and counting down. Like the hours in a day.

Spotting an abandoned newspaper he picked it up and glanced at the date, slowly breathing out. The date on top was November 11th, 1972.

He was in the past. He was in the fucking past where Mary was alive, and they had been dating for only a few months at this point. He actually remembered this date too, he had wondered where Mary had gone, she had cited that she and her parents were going to visit some relatives out east and would be gone for at least two weeks.

He remembered missing her so much and being so happy when she came back that that was what convinced him and he had gone to look at rings that day.

He was in the past due to something magical in the bunker of men of letters with a countdown on his arm. A part of him hoped that once the countdown was done he would be able to go back home to his own time and his sons.

But at the same time, he glanced back towards the room where Mary was, the doctor was leaving again, talking to the person next to him who looked like a social worker.

He could go somewhere and wait out the rest of the time before the countdown finished and he could, hopefully, go home.

Or he could…

Swallowing hard he put the newspaper down John started back towards the room, his heart pounding in his ears loudly. He reached it and took a deep breath, Mary was reading her book again and he knocked on the doorframe.

Mary glanced up at him, setting the book down onto her lap. "Can I help you?" she asked, her voice was a bit rough and when John looked down at the bandages on her neck it was obvious that someone had tried to strangle her.

John swallowed, just staring at her for a moment before he came into the room, well aware of how hard she was staring at him and following his movements. "I...I need to talk to you."

Mary slowly nodded, not taking her eyes off of him. He couldn't look away from her either, feeling his body shake as he stared at her. God she looked so beautiful.

"You're a hunter." Mary stated, not putting it like a question. "I handed the ghoul, its dead, I don't need your help."

And there was that last confirmation, that Mary had been raised as a hunter and knew about the supernatural. "I'm a hunter, but I'm not here about that." he managed to get out, sitting down on a chair at the side of her bed.

Mary raised an eyebrow at him, clearing her throat for a moment as her hand came up to massage at it. "Then what?"

"I just...wanted to tell you something." John said softly, teetering between the urge to throw up and tear up. "Mary...it's something important."

"Well apparently not because you're not really telling me what it is." Mary said raising an eyebrow at him.

"Mary, I'm from the future." John managed to get out, seeing her eyes widen. "And there's more than a few things you need to know."

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