The odd discussion which transpired between K and Rebecca left me drowning in the sea of confusion. The notions they alluded to held no relevance to me.

Who was the doctor they held in such high regard? Why would he have any connection to witches or be in possession of any knowledge of how to dispose of them?

Furthermore, what kind of an absurd name was 'Who'? Was it not a pronoun whose primary function was inquiring about someone's identity?

"Would you two please explain this to us non-Whovians?" Marisol asked politely.

For the first time since I had had the pleasure of her acquaintance, she appeared to be as confused as I felt.

"I got an idea of how we can get rid of those things!" K exclaimed.

"Does that mean that you are finally prepared to believe my candid confession?" I inquired, hopefully.

"Not exactly, but I figure it can't hurt. We won't go around chopping off any heads, so it doesn't really matter. If it helps you sleep better at night, I say, why not?" K said, far more excited by the prospect of facing the monster than was regular.

It was evident that he did not trust my recounting of the events. However, he was willing to set his opinions to the side and provide me with the assistance I required. I appreciated that more than words could convey.

However, I did worry if his disbelief would cause him immense harm once the time came to confront my demons.

"What shall we do if not slay the monsters?" I asked.

"I told you, man. We'll use the power of words." K said as if he was addressing a toddler.

"How could that possibly suffice?" I asked in shock.

"Man, you are the great Bard of Avon! Your words have more power than any other person's words ever had or could ever have." K said emphatically.

"Besides, wasn't the power of your words the one that set the monsters free in the first place? It's only logical to assume that it also has the power to trap them again." Rebecca said, finally comprehending K's line of thinking.

"What does that have to do with Doctor Who?" Marisol asked.

"There is an episode where he travels back in time and meets Shakespeare," K said.

"I most certainly have not encountered anyone with such an absurd name!" I exclaimed indignantly.

"Doctor Who is a TV show." Rebecca attempted to explain.

"Excuse me?" I asked, at a loss for words.

"It's like a play that you can watch on TV," Marisol explained.

Having come to understand over time I spent around K what 'TV' was, I began to comprehend that a TV show was but a mere play. How was the idea received from it supposed to aid us in saving millions of lives?

"Anyway, they learned that some witches were wreaking havoc and that they used Shakespeare's words to come into being. However, Shakespeare's words were the ones that ultimately destroyed them as well." K said.

"But that is just fiction. We can't assume that it would work in our situation." Marisol said reasonably.

It became apparent to me that she was the only one who had any inclination to believe the truthfulness of my revelations. For the young people in love, such as were K and Rebecca, any doubts that their relationship was not as deep as they thought were quickly suppressed from their minds.

"Well, it doesn't cost us anything to try, right? If Shawn had told us the truth, then we might as well be invincible as far as those creatures are concerned." K said.

"Then what should we do?" Rebecca asked, ready for action as young people often were.

"You and I will track down 'the monsters' and follow them closely so that Shawn can find them easily when he's ready," K stated.

"When I am prepared for what?" I inquired.

"You know, when you've written the most perfect words to get rid of them. No pressure, but the sooner you get to writing, the better." K said, taking control of the situation.

In all the time I have known him; I have never encountered this determined, wise side of his personality. It was as if he was the idle lad who did not even bother using proper English until there was a need for his assistance. When that occurred, he transformed into the most capable version of himself, which was far more impressive than anything I could have ever achieved with my set of skills.

After all, I was just a man who was good with his words. I created new worlds, but I was not remarkably good at living in them. Conceivably it is the consequence of the solitary nature which most writers share.

"What about me?" Marisol asked calmly.

"You stay here with Shawn and try to keep him calm since he looks like he will lose his marbles any moment now," K said as he and Rebecca got up to leave.

Before I had the chance to inquire which marbles he was referring to, they were at the door in a hurry to complete their assignment.

"Oh, and Shawn," he said, turning to me.

"Yes?" I uttered, barely keeping the tremor out of my voice.

"Don't take too long. I know that you writer types need time and all that, but if you are telling the truth, there are lives at stake." K said, exiting the apartment.

The righteous indignation spread through me at K's insinuation, but they were gone before I could say anything about it.

However, it only took one touch from Marisol's gentle hand to dispel that unwanted emotion and induce a boundless warmth.

"You can do this, Shawn. I know you can," she said.

"I appreciate your support, my lady. However, are you not furious at me for my less than noble actions?" I asked.

"No, not furious. Maybe I am slightly disappointed, but that doesn't matter right now. We'll find a way to go past your mistakes. For the time being, you need to focus your attention on getting rid of those monsters." Marisol said.

"I am not certain I can do so, my lady. I do not genuinely believe that my words possess a power strong enough to destroy those foul creatures." I said, discouraged.

"Now, listen to me! You are William Shakespeare, the great Bard of Avon! You can do this! Words are your weapons so prepare them for battle." Marisol said encouragingly.

That was the moment in which I recognized the truth of what I had once written: 'Words, words, words.'

At the time, I did not have any notion of how important those words would come to be. However, what I knew both as Shakespeare and as Shawn was that words were my friends, my companions.

Ever since I was but a mere child, I called upon them to provide me with comfort. I evoked their help when I needed courage and strength. They had never missed heeding my call.

If there was one thing that I could rely on in any life, it was that words would always be there for me. They would permanently gather around me like the most obedient flock, waiting for me to shepherd them in the proper direction.

All I needed to do was what I had always done, let myself be one with words, let the story flow from my hand.

"Very well. Let us begin," I said as my eyes shone with a newfound determination.