Just a note- Chapters will be longer from now on. Huzzah :D Major character development in this episode, but not much plot. That will resume... soon. Anyway. Happy reading!

The light returned.

I yawned, the nightmares melting away from my mind as I sat up. Sunlight streamed through the window of the motel room, illuminating the still bodies of Sam and Dean. Hauling myself up and quickly using my fingers to brush through my messy morning hair, I checked the beaten-up clock on the nightstand, which read 6:12. Good. I loved getting up early.

As a few stray birds chirped cheerfully outside, I crept over to Sam and Dean. They were as still as rocks apart from the minuscule rising and falling of their chests. I spotted a metal glint on the floor and bent down to see Sam's treasured laptop.

It was time to do some research of my own.

The laptop didn't have a password, which I found strange. Wouldn't a man doing a lot of top-secret detective work at least protect his files?

I opened Google Chrome and impulsively checked the internet history. The results were.. weird, to say the least.

HISTORY

Recently Visited:

Djinn- Google Search

Djinn Parallel Universes- Google Search

Parallel Universe Conspiracy Theories- Google Search

parallel universes and deja vu-

7 crazy Theories about... - .com

Do We Live in the MATRIX? - .com

Clara ozwald- Google Search

Tarrdis- Google Search

Doctor, Timelord- Google Search

Results like this continued. Fortunately (or unfortunately) Sam didn't seem to find anything at all about me or the Doctor, possibly because he had no idea how to spell. He also didn't have much luck with the alternate universe thing either.

I was just typing 'sam winchester' into the search bar when I heard Dean mumble in his sleep. I jumped and warily closed the laptop, putting it right back where it was. Good thing I did, because just a few seconds after, Dean awoke, sitting up and grinning at me cheekily, sleep clouding his forest-filled eyes.

"Mornin', Princess," he mumbled gruffly, rubbing at his eyes. I smiled. From the other bed, I heard a shuffling and a lion's roar of a yawn. Sam was awake.

I realized I was still in the same clothes as yesterday, and that I had nothing else to change into. Ah well. It's not like they mind.

Sam's hazel eyes were unfocused- he was clearly not a morning person. Reluctantly, he sat up, stretching his distractingly muscular arms. He was wearing a white vest top and jeans, which didn't seem like very comfortable pajamas to me, although I did sleep in a dress.

"So what's the plan for today?" I asked slowly, averting my eyes from Sam's bulging biceps.

"No clue," Dean said. He got out of bed, revealing he was still in the same black shirt and jeans as yesterday.

"Maybe we'll do more research on your little, uh, problem, go into town later on, perhaps devise a plan," Sam added. He unzipped his duffel bag and found a red plaid shirt stuffed at the bottom, which he put on, taking his time with the buttons.

"Okay," I said. My stomach rumbled and I grimaced. "Hey, is there any food here?"

Dean looked around, taking inventory of the room. I'd checked- there wasn't a minibar. "Nah. I'll go and get some stuff from Denny's or something."

I didn't know what a'Denny's' was, but I guessed it wasn't a good place, as Sam didn't look impressed with that idea. "Dean, go to the grocery store and get some cereal. Seriously."

Dean put up his hands in a mock surrender. "Alright, alright, you healthy freak."

He slipped into his aged leather jacket and waved goodbye before closing the door behind him. And just like that, I was alone with Sam.

I coughed. "Soooo..."

Awkward. I really need to work on talking to people other than the Doctor.

I started again. "What's hunting like?"

I mentally slapped myself. Bad move, Clara. Bad, bad move. Why'd you ask that?

"Urm," Sam said quietly, squirming. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat it for you. It's pretty violent. You gotta kill a lot of people. Sometimes they're your friends. I don't know, I grew up with it. After a while... the deaths don't really bother you. It used to eat me up inside, to kill, but now? Offing a monster.. it's satisfying. Like, avenging the deaths. Um, it's not a good life."

"Oh."

It was the only thing I could say. I couldn't imagine what it was like. I could never relate.

"So, uh, what's it like, traveling with the Doctor?" Sam questioned after a few moments of silence.

"It's wonderful," I gushed before I could stop myself. "You get to see so much and meet so many people. The running alone is just exhilarating. You really see the good in the universe. There are the deaths, and the monsters, but there is so much hope, with the Doctor. He is such a huge part of my life now, and I can't imagine a life without him, to be honest."

Sam was smiling now. His lips spread into a goofy grin.

"I have to say, I'm jealous."

I grimaced. I was at a loss for words once again. Not many people could do that to me.

Luckily, the overbearing silence was interrupted by Sam's phone ringing. It chimed brightly from the bedside table. Sam grabbed it.

"Hello?"

'It's Dean', he mouthed at me, frowning. I could just about hear his brother's voice on the other line, but couldn't make out what he was saying.

I watched Sam sigh and cross his arms. He turned to me, holding the phone away from his ear.

"Dean wants to know what cereal he should get," he told me, exasperated.

I shrugged. "Cornflakes are fine by me."

Sam put the phone back to his ear.

"Clara says cornflakes." There was a brief pause. "No, Dean, pie is not a acceptable breakfast food!"

Giggling, I let the boys argue, swinging my legs off the edge of Dean's mussed-up bed.

Sam and Dean seemed like decent people, but underneath the mask of humor and purpose, I could detect a layer of mental damage. Growing up with hunting couldn't have been good for their personal development. Sometimes I could see Sam staring at nothing for prolonged amounts of time, and Dean's Cupid's-bow lips would quiver, accompanied by shaking hands and dark circles. Their lives were more way more complicated than I'd originally thought.

After about a minute of friendly bantering about whether whole-wheat bread or apple pie was better for your health, Sam put down the phone and sat opposite me. I was still staring at him, trying to figure him out.

"What are you looking at?" he chuckled.

"Huh?" I snapped out of it. "Oh, nothing. Doesn't matter."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Sam smirked. I stuck my tongue out.

For the next ten minutes, we talked about stupid, meaningless topics to take our minds off things.

"What's your favorite band?" I questioned.

"Uh, I don't have one. I don't really get to listen to my own music in Dean's car," he laughed.

"Really? Huh. Well, for future reference, mine is Muse."

"Cool."

"I know, right? Anyway, ever been to England?"

"Went to Scotland once. Desecrated a fake grave."

"I'm not even gonna ask. Eh, the country's going downhill anyway. You can never tell what the economy is gonna do in Europe!"

"Well, on the topic of foreign politics, what do you- I mean, what did you think of Dick Roman?"

"Who's he?"

"You've never heard of Dick Roman?"

"Erm.. no... Funny name, though."

"I guess there weren't any Leviathans in your universe!"

"Still not gonna ask."

After a while, I started to get a feel for who Sam was. Not a hunter. Not a brother. Just a little boy who grew up way too fast.

He likes the color indigo. His guilty pleasure is Top 40 pop music. He sleeps with one pillow. He loves dogs. Dean's his best friend. He took up knitting once, to his father's dismay.

I was in the middle of telling Sam about my secret passion for designing dresses when I heard a tapping noise on the window. I got up and meandered to the windowsill to see what it was. Seeing nothing but the parking lot outside the motel, I turned around and walked straight into Sam's chest.

Shocked, he toppled over. I was lying spreadeagled on top of him while he squirmed.

"Oops!" I exclaimed. "I'm so sorry- I just-"

Dean chose that exact moment to saunter through the door carrying three bags of groceries.

His eyes widened as he watched us awkwardly fumbling around on the floor.

"You guys need some.. alone time or something?" Dean remarked, laughing at our plight. I pushed myself away from Sam and got up from the ground, brushing myself off.

"Sorry about that. I just.. um.. tripped," I mumbled, embarrassed.

"Riiiight," said Dean, winking cheekily at Sam, who stood next to me with his arms crossed. Sam rolled his eyes.

"So, breakfast?" I asked, suddenly reminded of the hollowness in my stomach. I looked at what Dean was holding- 3 bags of food filled to the brim.

"Uh, I didn't know what to get," said Dean. "So I just got everything."

I started to laugh. What a dork.