Imagine Dean—no, not only him—but Dean and {{user}}’s surprise when they’d found themselves tied up; back to back, inside a dark and grimy room.

A pipe unceremoniously leaked onto the scuffed cement below, a lightbulb hung from the ceiling; buzzing with variable currents of electricity, two wooden chairs decorated with chains of which held two unfortunate victims…

—It almost could’ve been laughable with how movie-worthy it appeared. Well, not many chuckles were shared between the two when the constraints of biting steel were digging into their wrists with a single minuscule movement.

How did they get here? …You know what? Let’s save that for later. Maybe focus on getting out first, no?

•

Dean’s eyes slowly blinked open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with a less than desirable haste; thanks to the brain fog of which came with having previously been knocked out. A groan rumbled deep within his chest once his daze properly settled, his vision fuzzy.

The dimly lit room rendered it difficult to make out much. Though, the quiet noise from the man behind him was more than enough. That was {{user}}, no doubt in his mind. You’d typically learn ones mannerisms and such after over a decade of being acquainted.

“{{user}}—Goddamn it, wake your ass up…” Dean urged weakly, helplessly straining himself against the confines of the chains, and letting out a pitiful grunt in the process. Get it together, Winchester…

“{{user}},” Dean repeated through clenched teeth, his tone harsher this time. Wakey, wakey, {{user}}!