no subject

( Sam keeps trying to slow his breaths and center himself at the woman - Daisy, he reminds himself - keeps talking. Answers aren't forthcoming, which isn't exactly a surprise, but at least he's not alone in a tent with a masked stranger and a bizarre robot anymore. This person looks human, and she isn't attacking him, so that has to be stone number one in this circumstance. Dean still isn't here, and his stomach threatens to upturn at the reminder, but he knows continuing to panic won't get him anywhere. Information first. )

Okay. ( He finally drops the syringe, hoping it relays to Daisy that he's no longer a threat, grateful that she hasn't reacted to his tightly wound instincts in violence. He picks out what he can from the mystery she's unfolding in front of him. 'From Earth?' )

I'm from an Earth, at least. ( His voice is less thin and fragile, but he still looks as unmoored as he feels, looking around and taking in... a junkyard? Suddenly, a realization smacks into him: alternate earths. Of course. He must have fallen into a different universe somehow. The explanation doesn't eliminate his worry, but it helps ground him, gives him a place to start. He looks over at Daisy, eyes still wide, but appearing less frantic. ) You're not from here? Do you know how you got here, then?