Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

s e v e n t e e n

"You've got me nervous to speak
So I just won't say anything at all
I've got an urge to release
And you keep tellin' me to hold on
You've got me nervous to move
So I just won't give anything to you"
Nervous - The Neighbourhood 

The kitchen felt smaller with all three of them in it, the weight of unspoken tension hanging in the air. Amara leaned against the counter, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug as she tried to ground herself in the mundane feeling of warmth between her palms. The earlier conversation with Sam still echoed in her mind, but now, with both brothers present, the atmosphere had shifted into something heavier—something charged.

Sam sat at the table, the lore book forgotten in front of him as his attention focused entirely on her. His gaze was steady, patient, but there was a flicker of something else behind his eyes—something deeper.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," Sam said quietly, his voice sincere and edged with a gravity that caught her off guard. His words hung in the air, laden with a weight that made her heart skip a beat.

Before Amara could respond, Dean, who had been rummaging through the cabinets, turned and shot his brother a sideways glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Careful there, Sammy," Dean teased, popping a chip into his mouth. "You keep saying stuff like that, and she's gonna start thinking you've got feelings for her."

Dean's tone was light, playful even, but the undercurrent of his words sent a ripple of tension through the room. Amara felt a flush rise in her cheeks, caught between Sam's intense sincerity and Dean's teasing.

Sam didn't flinch, his gaze still locked on Amara. "Maybe I do," he said, his voice quiet but firm. His words hung in the air, bold and unashamed, and for a moment, the weight of them seemed to shift the very air around them.

Amara's heart thudded in her chest, the room suddenly feeling too warm. She had always sensed something deeper between her and Sam, but hearing him say it so plainly—it left her breathless.

Dean's smirk faded, just a fraction, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the exchange. His posture remained relaxed, but there was a subtle tension in the way he leaned against the counter now, his arms crossed. "Well, look at you," he drawled, his voice rough but laced with something teasing. "Making all these big declarations."

Amara glanced at Dean, and there was something playful in his eyes, but beneath it, she could see a flicker of something else. Something deeper. It was almost as if Dean was staking his own claim, without saying it outright.

Dean straightened up and walked over to where Amara was standing, his movements casual but deliberate. "What Sammy here means," Dean said, his voice dropping lower, more intimate, "is that you've got both of us watching your back."

Amara's breath hitched as Dean leaned a little closer, his presence warm and overwhelming. His green eyes sparkled with something mischievous, but there was a tenderness there too, something unspoken but unmistakable.

"We're a team," Dean continued, his lips quirking into a small smile. "And I'm not about to let you forget that."

Sam's eyes flicked between Dean and Amara, his jaw tightening slightly. There was an intensity in the air now, something heavier than before, and Amara could feel it pressing down on her, making it hard to breathe.

"You're not the only one who sees her strength, Dean," Sam said, his voice still calm but carrying an undercurrent of possessiveness. "She doesn't need to be reminded of how much we care."

Dean chuckled, the sound low and rough, and he leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, I think she does," he said, his gaze flicking to Amara, the teasing edge in his voice more pronounced now. "I mean, let's be honest. It's not every day a girl like you gets two guys fighting over her."