I am roused again but this time not by steady steps. Scuffling and sounds of struggle come from outside the room I'm in. Or maybe it is inside, but I can't really tell. I don't even know the size of my prison. The scuffling noises sound so much like the one that life changing night so many months ago where I hid in the secret room while my dad fended off demons. Grunts and shouts echo off the walls but I see nothing.

I start thinking that the sounds are just my imaginations running wild. I even hear my father calling out my name. I lean my head back against the chair I have been tied to. I am tired even though I put up a good show for Crowley whenever he's around. My body is sore and mentally I am worn. The running sounds get closer and closer. I realize that there are not one but two voices calling out for me. Neither of them belongs to my father and I strain my ears to listen. I ignore the pain in my body, and call out as loud as I could for help.

"Pierce?" Sam's voice echoes down the room. "Where are you?"

"I'm in here," I call out. I remember that I'm in the dark and shout, "There should be a switch nearby for the light."

I hear some fumbling and the lights come on. Not just the single spotlight on me, but every fluorescent light attached to the ceiling of the apparent factory room I'm held in. Crowley likes to be dramatic, it seems. The cart with the torture tools he never used is sitting slightly further away from me, still containing all those wretched daggers they have used on me.

Dean sees me and runs to free me. He cuts the ropes that snake around me and pick the locks on my chains. I shake my arms to put some feeling back in them. Dean comes in front of me to check if I have any broken bones or mortal injuries, peppering me with questions.

"I'm fine, Dean," I tell him. "Let's just get out of this place."

I move to stand up but collapse almost immediately when I do. I am blinded by a white light similar to the ones Crowley has given me. I clutch my chest and feel my pendant there. I am grateful they didn't notice that and take it away. Still in shock and in a lot of pain, Dean supports me under my arms so I could stand and walk.

My left ankle hurts with each step. I can't decide if it was twisted or not but I grit my teeth and walk as best as I could. Sam wields a dagger in his hand, making sure no one attacks us. I see the path of dead bodies they left when they came in and we follow it out into the fresh air.

We are out and I blink in the bright sunlight. I feel the summer breeze soothing my wounds. I don't get to enjoy it for long because an alarm wails and we duck into the Impala and drive off. Sitting in between the guys, I inspect my wrists which are hurting almost as bad as my ankles are. I almost gasp at the ugly cuts and grooves that circle my wrists. Deep cuts with dried blood and scabs line multicolored bruises. I think I caused these with all my struggling against my bonds while they tortured me. They are horrible and hopefully they won't leave too obvious a scar.

I look out to see us driving into a different motel than the last one. I start to notice that this is no longer the small town with the small mini mart anymore. This town is different, slightly busier and a lot less quiet.

"Where are we?" I ask, my voice slightly hoarse. I need water. Crowley didn't offer me water during our wonderful time together. Dean stops the car and Sam helps me get into the room.

"You were taken quite far away from the last town," Sam explains. "About a day's drive away."

"How did you find me?"

"It took us a while, somebody told us where you were," Sam says.

"Who would tell you that?"

"A friend," he answers shortly. "It's long story. Here, sit," he offers an unmade bed. "Are you hurt?"

"Nothing that will kill me," I reply, brushing his concern off. Then I remember my torn up arms and chest still fresh and bleeding. I look up at him and shrug, totally not bothering with my bodily fluids dripping off me. When I manage to shoo off Sam's concern, Dean comes in and does the exact same thing.

"I'm fine!" I insist. "They wouldn't kill me or hurt me so bad that I'll die or anything."

The two of them back off and I look up at them smilingly. I might look a bit crazy, smiling after just being kidnapped, but I just feel happy they came for me. I feel relief, and I feel safe. I trust these two to be my knights in shining armour, and they delivered. That's all that matters.

"You need some water?" Dean asks.

I nod, coughing a little and swallowing the blood that came out with it. Dean pours a glass of water for me and hand it to me. As I reach for it, the blinding pain takes over me again and the world becomes white nothingness. I grab my head to stop the high pitched sound but to no avail. I curl up with the pain in my chest as my heart decides if it wants to explode or implode.

I see the images and the high pitched sound becomes words. I can't understand any of the words because they were said too fast and possibly a different language. I shout out as another wave of pain courses through me and the high pitched sound gets louder. My head is in a spin, whispers of foreign words and flashes of someone doing something dart around and something claws my chest.

It stops and I gasp for breath. I have fallen off the bed when I had the images and now I'm clawing at the laminated floor so hard that I left scratch marks on them. Dean and Sam are kneeling next to me at the foot of the bed, their faces are mirror images of each other's concern. Dean places a hand on my shoulder and I try to shrug it off as another wave of white hot pain comes.

This time, I can almost make out the words being said. The images, I see now, are of a ritual. A bowl of blood, a sacrifice, and some other things that are scary and creepy that I don't comprehend. The method and steps for the ritual are shown and with a bit of concentration, it becomes slightly clearer. The words I hear are a chant or a spell. Too late, I realize what all of it means.

"I am the key," I whisper hoarsely.

"What?" Sam asks.

"I hold the secret to summon every evil creature to the surface of the earth," I say mostly to myself. "I figured it out. This is bad."

This is really bad, the main reason I'm here is to avoid finding out about the key. It's supposed to stay hidden from mankind until the day I die. Now that I know it, I can't trust myself to keep it for long. I cannot tell anybody, not even Dean and Sam.

Another shot of pain that seems extra intense comes and I groan. The pressure on my lungs stops me from breathing and I collapse on the floor. Dean picks me up and I hang limp like a rag doll even though I am fully conscious. I have lost the strength to lift even one finger. All I can do at the moment is breathe shallowly.

They lay me gently on the bed and the sheets and pillows are so soft to my weary body. I feel the drowsiness that washes over me and I blink slowly at the two of them standing over my bed. Whatever wall of defense and pride I had left comes crashing down and my true fatigue shows.

"I'm so tired," I murmured.

"Go to sleep, you're safe now," Dean says gently and I do.

Because gentle and loving Dean is the best Dean to have in the world. I wrote in the end that Dean kisses Pierce's forehead when he told her to sleep but I thought it to be to fast into a familial relationship. Especially since Dean is not big on the love stuff. You can imagine it in if you want, I didn't want the Winchesters to be OOC.