Clara slowly awakened to the sound of constant dripping in the distance. In her droopy state she concluded that a faucet was still on and she cursed the water bill that she was probably racking. She had fallen asleep sitting up causing her neck and back to ache. Clara leaned to stand up but found that she could not move. What the- Oh.

Thoughts were running frantically through her brain and panic started to set in. She started squirming every which way to get up off of the seat, to no success. Being stuck surprisingly calmed her down enough to think to herself that this was just another dream. It's a lucid dream and that's all. Yeah… Lucid dreaming.

Slowly calming down, she could finally survey the room closer. Well, figuratively, because she was still stuck to the chair.

The place smelled old. Not old as in dusty but as in moldy and worn. The room looked how it smelled, too. Suddenly, Clara didn't think that breathing in this air was such a safe idea. She tried holding her breath as long as she could, which wasn't long. It was still time enough for her to get antsy again. Clara reasoned that this was a dream, so why wasn't anything happening?

Clara let out a shaky laugh to ease her nerves. It did quite the opposite when she then heard banging from behind her. She whipped her head back as quick and as far as she could and she saw a doorway behind her. Unfortunately, the force of her turning back, caused the wooden chair to tip.

"No! Nono-" She landed hard and the air was knocked out of her lungs. Things couldn't get any worse.

"Dean! She… woke up?" Someone had entered the dank room. He was obviously confused as to why she was on the floor. Clara could only see the man's silhouette looming over her face, blocking the only lightsource in the room.

More footsteps followed after, Clara assumed that this was this 'Dean.' Were they here to help her? Seeing as the one standing above her wasn't even helping her up, she took that as a bad sign.

Dean was carrying something heavy. It looked like a bucket but she couldn't see inside. Some of it sloshed over the side and it looked exactly like water. Why were they carrying a bucket of water over to her? Oh shit were they going to waterboar-

Clara couldn't complete her thought because then, the metal bucket was completely emptied onto her face. She fell into a coughing fit, but after a few seconds, she was fine. That wasn't a very effective waterboarding. She thought but she didn't dare to say it out loud.

"You're not… Oh fuck.. Uh.. Sam?" Dean was shocked, but he didn't let his guard down too long.

Sam? Dean? What is this Supernatural-esque shit?

Then Sam did something unexpected. He lifted the chair back up and cut Clara free of the ropes that held her hands together.

"Why don't you tell us your name?" Sam questioned. "And how did you end up here?"