The two hunters headed out to a case that they expected to take about a week all in all, leaving Amy on her own in the bunker. Well, almost on her own. Castiel was around every now and then, though he seldom said much after their long talk; he preferred to simply observe her, which she didn't mind. After all, she was a rare creature, and there was no doubt in her mind that Castiel was determined to figure out just how this earth-adapted second generation unicorn behaved in its everyday life, what it did, what it said. He had made one comment full of longing about how he missed 'Peebee and jays' while Amy was making herself a jam sandwich, but she had no clue what he was talking about. However, she had given her condolences to him about the loss of his Peebee and Jays. Perhaps they were two people, who knew.

There were so many wondrous items in the bunker, as they called it. Amy's image of a bunker was very different from the brothers', but she hadn't mentioned it to them. Bunkers to her were narrow, dingy little wet places full of soldiers. This was a palace in comparison, and she could spend hours going through the storage room, looking through all the items, all the information.

However, there was something that kept catching her attention in the storage room. It was faint and feeble, but it was there. It was a sensation like a dark mist floating over the floor, so vague that she could never follow it. A presence had been burned into the room, its essence having seeped into the walls as it only did after a long time. Running a hand through her dull light brown hair, she frowned slightly. It was driving her somewhat mad, this sensation. Shuffling about in a pair of dark grey cotton trousers, she narrowed her eyes in her search, peeking in between all the various objects on all the shelves. The rest of her outfit was the same; an off-white top with a red plaid shirt on top of that. Her feet were bare and the floor was cold, but it had never bothered her, as her steps were barely heavy enough to stir the dust below.

That's when she found it. There was no proper wall to be seen between two of the metallic bookcases, albeit she was fairly sure that was not what they were supposed to be called. Grabbing two shelves, she tugged hard with a grunt, feeling them give way. They slid open like secret doors to reveal a place she could only have imagined in a nightmare; a single table and chair in the middle of a devils trap, surrounded by various weapons and tools of torture.

Backing up quickly, she shut the shelved doors with a frown. Surely they did not torture. This was simply not possible. They had seemed so nice and friendly, surely they could not know of this horrible place hiding in their storage room.

However, she knew that was not the case, and she kept backing up before turning around to hurriedly exit the room, shutting the door swiftly before leaning against it, as though there was something dangerous inside. The sensation had been much stronger near the table, they had kept something there. Something evil, something wicked and cruel beyond belief, beyond imagination. Something that was not there anymore.

Heading towards her room with a nervous spring in her step, she kept her eyes low. Had they killed whatever they had held captive? Had they released it? She had trusted these people with her life and her safety, but had it truly been a wise decision to trust an angel and his word? They had kept something in the bunker, something so dark that it had tainted the very walls that confined it. They were out of their league, or was this simply how stubborn humans were? Sitting down on her bed, she heaved a sigh. The last thing she wished to do was to distrust them. In fact, she enjoyed her new home much more than her last one, there was more life here. While they could confuse her a lot, and use a rather aggressive tone of voice, she could see that they had nothing but good intentions. They had not lied to her, not yet. If they did, she would be able to tell. Throwing herself onto her back in the bed, she flung up her arms with a groan.

"This is confusing!" Her arms bounced off the bed once before laying still beside her as she stared up at the ceiling. It was not as though she could just, run away, go back home and ignore everything. No, she now knew of all the hardship, and she had to admit that the hunters and angel were growing on her, even though they didn't make a lick of sense most of the time.

"What am I supposed to do?" Frowning slightly, not even she was sure of just who she was talking to. Her parents perhaps, or God himself. Maybe she was not talking to anyone in particular, she wasn't sure. Heaving a sigh, she rolled over onto her side, looking over at the books stacked high on the floor. This was all so complicated.

Sam and Dean returned after five days on the hunt. Apparently it had been some lowly demons stirring up trouble, and the hunt had gone off without any major accidents or trouble.

"Hey, Amy! You there?" Dean called out as they walked into the hallway, kicking off their shoes.

"We're back!" Sam added with a smile, heading on in before his brother to check the reading room first. "I'm here!" Amy smiled as she hopped off the low bookcase. The ornamental weapon was still on the floor, and it was obvious that its former place had become Amy's favourite spot.

"I got you something." Raising her eyebrows, she intently followed each movement Sam made with his hands, which were reaching into his bag to pull out a small white carton. "It was, Danish pastries you liked, wasn't it?" He asked hesitantly, hoping he had gotten it right.

"Hey, what about me?" Dean threw out his arms with a scowl. "Don't I get treats?"

"You've stopped for pie twice during this trip, you've had your treats." Dean paused for a moment before shrugging, Sam did have a point. Amy was intensely trying to peel off the tape that kept the carton closed, but her short nails weren't much good for the task.

"Here, let me help." Fishing out the demon blade, he swiftly cut through each bit of tape on the carton with a smile before putting it away again.

"Unique, magical and essential weapon, now degraded to kitchen duty." Dean said jokingly with a grin. "Ha ha, very funny." Sam rolled his eyes, but he was amused with the comment, his smile told her that much. There were so many subtle things in the brothers' relationship, it was fascinating to watch. However, at the moment, there was a Danish pastry craving her attention.

Sitting down on top of the table, chewing contently on a piece of her treat, she looked at the two, who were busy downing a meal of their own. A bought meal, as per usual. Cooking didn't seem like a reoccurring thing in the bunker.

"Was the hunt fun?"

"Fun, might not be the right word to describe any hunt." Sam chuckled out, brushing back some hair in behind his ear with a hand. "It was, intense."

"It was easy though. Just lowlife demons with too much time on their hands, that kinda' deal." Dean's voice was slightly muffled by the food still in his mouth, but she didn't mind. It had to be infuriating, being forced to eat just to survive. It must take up so much of their time, she thought to herself. Sleeping too, so much time gone to waste..

"So what have you been doing, Amy?" She flinched and looked up as she was addressed, smiling at Sam. "I've been reading and going through the storage room, mostly." Liking her lips, she then flicked up a finger. "Oh! Did you know that you do not have a single book or item connected to my kind? Why is that?"

Dean frowned and leaned back in his seat. "Didn't Castiel explain how you're not even supposed to exist down here?"

"Yes, sure, but I do, and so do others, or well, at least they have. Surely someone must have written something accurate?" They both shook their heads. "Look, Amy, unicorns have never really.. Well, they are fairy tale creatures, or so most people thought. I don't think any hunters, or like here, the Men of Letters, even considered your kind plausible to exist." Amy's shoulders slumped slightly and she looked down at her pastry.

"Oh.." It was strangely upsetting, finding out that your kind had been completely dismissed to fairy tales, that there was no one who believed in your existence. Sam noticed the drop in the girl's mood and got up to walk over to her with a smile. "Hey, it's okay, alright? Besides, did I mention that your kind are the dreams and hopes of a lot of kids out there?" This was enough to get the unicorn to perk up with a smile.

"Really? We are?" Sam nodded, sitting down on the table next to her. "Sure are. Kids all over the world wish for unicorns to be real. Imagine their faces if they found out you are real!" Amy let out a laugh as she nodded. The thought of children becoming happy simply because of her existing was more than enough to cheer her up. After all, she was partial to children, due to their pure innocence.

"I know I can't do it now, but one day.." Smiling, she looked down at the floor.

".. I'd like to tell at least one child, that I am real."