Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

s e v e n

"Feeling like a lot, like it was lately
Lot of going on, not a lot coming in, that's how it goes"
Drop Stop Roll - Rainbow Kitten Surprise 

Dean grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, casting a quick glance toward Amara and Sam. "I'll be back in a bit," he said, his voice casual but with that underlying gruffness that never quite left him. "Gonna grab some stuff for you, Amara. Toiletries, clothes—whatever you need."

Amara nodded, offering him a small smile. "Thanks, Dean."

He waved her off as he headed for the door. "Don't mention it. Just try not to burn the place down while I'm gone."

Sam rolled his eyes, his lips quirking into a faint smirk as he watched Dean leave. "You'd think he'd have more faith in us," he muttered, a teasing note in his voice.

The door clicked shut behind Dean, and the bunker fell into a quiet stillness. For a moment, Amara simply stood there, unsure of what to do with herself. The events of the past day were still weighing on her, the memories of her childhood lingering like a dark cloud. But there was a strange sense of calm settling over her too—like maybe, just maybe, she could breathe for a moment.

Sam broke the silence, his voice gentle. "I can show you where the shower is," he said, standing up from the table. "You'll feel better after you've cleaned up."

Amara hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds... great, actually."

Sam led her through the winding halls of the bunker, the soft glow of the lights casting long shadows on the walls. The place still felt like a maze to her, but there was a warmth to it now, a sense of security she hadn't expected to feel in an underground bunker. It felt like a sanctuary, hidden away from the rest of the world.

When they reached the bathroom, Sam paused, opening the door for her. "Take your time," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "There's towels in the cabinet, and you can use whatever you need. I'll leave another shirt for you—one of mine this time. It should fit... well, it'll be a bit big, but it'll do for now."

Amara smiled softly, grateful for the small gesture. "Thanks, Sam. Really."

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned to leave. "Make yourself at home."

She watched him walk away, the soft thud of his boots echoing down the hall. When she was alone, Amara let out a long breath, the tension in her shoulders easing. It was strange—being in this place, with these two men she barely knew—and yet, she felt safer here than she had in a long time.

Home. The word felt warm to her, after years of being alone. 

She slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. The space was small but clean, the mirror above the sink slightly fogged from the warmth of the room. She turned on the shower, letting the water heat up before stripping off the oversized plaid shirt and stepping under the stream.

The hot water hit her skin, and Amara let out a quiet sigh, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. She hadn't realised how much she needed this—how much the weight of the day had settled into her bones until now. The water washed over her, rinsing away the grime, the fear, the exhaustion. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt... clean.

She reached for one of the bottles of body wash on the shelf, its scent woodsy and masculine. It was clearly one of the guys', but she didn't mind. There was something oddly comforting about it, like she was borrowing a piece of the sanctuary they had built for themselves.

After her shower, Amara dried off and found the shirt Sam had left for her, neatly folded on the counter. She slipped it on, the fabric soft and worn, and it immediately swallowed her whole. Sam was taller and broader than Dean, and the shirt hung down to her thighs, the sleeves covering her hands. But it was comfortable, and she felt a strange sense of security in the oversized fabric.