"Pip. Pip. Wake up."

"Mm?" Pip woke to a voice calling her and a hand gently shaking her shoulder. She garbled out an incoherent response. Her tongue felt too large for her mouth and didn't cooperate with what she wanted to do. "Wha?"

"Pip." The shaking increased slightly. The hand was a very large and warm presence on her shoulder.

She wanted to do anything but wake up. Her eyes felt as if weights kept them closed. She groaned at the voice, refusing to open them. Let me sleep, let me sleep.

Her shoulder felt cold when the hand removed itself and she sighed contentedly. There was a murmur of voices and she allowed herself to slowly drift back to sleep, believing that they had given up.

"Get. Up."

Suddenly her chair was yanked backwards and before she knew it she was falling. Instincts kicked in and she ducked into a somersault, landing in a crouch. In a panic her mind whipped out at the nearest target, and before she could pull it back it launched the person up into the air, pressing them against the ceiling. Shouts rang out and she looked around in a panic, her brain struggling to keep up after the jarring wake-up.

"Put him down."

Her eyes settled on Dean who now had a gun pointed directly at her. Is this a dream? she thought, her mind barely comprehending the rapid turn of events.

Dean cocked the gun, his eyes burning a hole into her deeper than a bullet would. "Put him down or I will shoot you, gut you, and then string you up, so help me."

She looked up and saw that her mind had grabbed onto Sam and thrown him against the ceiling. He struggled in her grip, his hands near his throat as if he were choking. I really hope this is a dream.

"You have three seconds." Dean's voice went dangerously low.

Some part of her wanted to resist. It told her that it would be very easy to just yank the gun out of Dean's hand and point it at him instead. She could turn the situation around in a matter of seconds. She was sick of having to get into the passive role when she knew she was much more powerful than that. They have no idea what I'm capable of. They would be very easy to kill. As soon as she thought that she snapped out of whatever reverie she was in. She resisted that part of her, pushing it as far down as it would go until she couldn't hear its voice anymore. Very slowly she pulled her mind back, lowering Sam to the floor. He struggled as he went down and it was difficult holding on to him. When she released him he stumbled backwards, coughing. Slowly she lifted her hands up in surrender, ducking her head submissively. "I'm sorry," she said. Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper and she hoped he couldn't hear the slight tremor in it. She wasn't sure if it was because she was scared of him or herself.

Suddenly Dean fired the gun and she leapt back, crawling away in a panic. A bullet hole appeared in the floor next to her and she nearly cried in relief.

"The next time you so much as poke my brother I will kill you. I will not hesitate. Don't think for one second you get to live because of your father."

She could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart. Dean didn't wait for a response from her before he finally lowered the gun and stalked back towards the middle tables, shoulders tense.

Pip collapsed backwards, lying on the floor as her breath came out in short, panicked gasps.

Good to see you're awake now.

Pip's temper flared up at Amon's snide voice. She screwed her eyes shut and pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, fighting back the urge to scream out loud at him. I am not in the mood, she said, hating how childish she sounded.

No one cares about your moods, princess.

She sat up, swallowing a retort. Whatever furious expression she knew she had on her face faded when she saw Sam. Dean hovered around his brother, examining him for any injuries. Pip forced herself to her feet and shuffled as close as she dared. "Is he alright?" she asked.

Dean turned, looking ready to explode until Sam put a hand on his arm. "Dean, relax," he said. "It's fine." He rolled his shoulders and neck as if working out a sore muscle.

She examined his throat from a distance and was relieved to see there wasn't any visible damage. As for everywhere else... she couldn't know and probably would never know if Dean had any say in it.

After the morning incident the rest of the day felt like floating in limbo. The brothers spent their time together while she kept out of their way. She explored as much of the bunker as she dared, even managing to find the kitchen area. She didn't open any closed doors. When she ran out of exploring space she went back into the main room, poking around at the books and items stacked on the shelves. Every so often she could feel Dean's gaze drilling into her but she refused to look at him. If she saw him in the hallways he would glare, shooting silent threats until she passed. If she thought Dean's treatment of her had been bad before, this was worse. Although I guess I deserve it this time, she thought, an image of Sam pressed against the ceiling flashing in her head. At least he's not pointing guns.

After a few hours of drifting around restlessly she realized she was starving. She'd skipped breakfast, for obvious reasons. Putting down the book she'd been paging through she headed towards the kitchen. She rifled around for a while, not sure what she was looking for. The thought of burgers made her stomach growl and mouth water. If I'm still alive when this is over, I'm going to get as many burgers as I want and eat until I'm sick.

Her search eventually yielded a bag of potato chips, and she recognized the food as something her father would give her sometimes. He was a big fan of foods that didn't require cooking and came in convenient packaging. Not for himself, of course. Just for her. She dug into the bag, leaning against the fridge as she munched away quietly. Her eyes fluttered shut as she got lost in thought.

"What are you doing?"

The sudden voice made her drop the bag with a surprised shout. Automatically she clamped down on her mind, not wanting to go through the same situation again at all. At least she was getting better at it.

Dean stood at the doorway to the kitchen, staring at her.

She panicked, swooping down to try and pick up the spilled bag of chips. The more she tried to clean it up, the more the chips spilled out of the bag. "Sorry, sorry," she stammered. "I got hungry, I didn't know what I'd be allowed to eat. I found this bag-" She struggled to clean, stumbling over herself like a foal just learning how to walk. Words spilled out of her as she rambled on. When she'd gotten most of the mess off the floor she clamped her mouth shut, staring at Dean with the now empty bag crumpled in her hand. It's amazing, she thought, just a while ago I was talking as if I could kill these two easily. Now I can barely move without falling over myself and making a mess.

Dean watched the whole ordeal impassively. When he was certain she was finished he finally spoke. "Sam and I are going hunting. There's a case close by."

"Oh, okay," she replied. Hunting...

He looked at her expectantly. When she didn't say anything else it changed to frustration. "You're coming too."

"What?" She nearly dropped the bag again. "Why?" She recoiled slightly when his face hardened.

"If it were up to me we would stick you in the dungeon and leave you there."

Pip couldn't suppress a shudder. Dark room. Angry face.

"But Sam thinks we need to learn to cooperate better. And that you need more practice with your... mind-thing." He waved a finger near his head. "So you're coming with."

"Alright," she nodded slowly, unable to stop a surge of excitement at the thought of going hunting. She had been endlessly curious about what exactly the Winchesters did. She went to follow Dean but stopped when he took a step towards her.

"I will be watching you," he said, his voice a warning.

She tried to reply but the words caught in her throat and she only nodded. When he finally turned away she sighed a bit in relief, shoulders sagging.

"And we'll eat on the way," he said over his shoulder.

She stopped in surprise before a grin spread across her face. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.