Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

t w e n t y - e i g h t

"Like walking into a dream
So unlike what you've seen
So unsure but it seems
'Cause we've been waiting for you
Fallen into this place
Just giving you a small taste
Of your afterlife here so stay
You'll be back here soon anyway"
Afterlife - Avenged Sevenfold 

The day had finally slowed down. After the intense training session and a much-needed shower, Amara found herself in the kitchen again, but this time for a more peaceful task—cooking. The rhythmic motions of chopping vegetables and boiling pasta allowed her mind to settle, though the lingering tension from earlier still hummed quietly beneath the surface.

By the time dinner was ready, the comforting aroma of garlic and tomatoes had filled the bunker. She had made a simple pasta dish, something easy but hearty enough to feed Sam, Dean, and even Castiel, who had shown up just before dinner.

They all gathered around the table, the familiar clatter of plates and utensils filling the space as they settled into their seats. Castiel, ever the enigma, sat at the far end of the table, observing the human ritual of eating with his usual calm detachment. Sam and Dean sat opposite Amara, their eyes flicking between her and the food with that same dark amusement she'd come to expect from them.

"Smells great," Sam said, a small smile tugging at his lips as he twirled his fork through the pasta. "Thanks for cooking."

"Yeah, thanks," Dean added, already shovelling a mouthful into his mouth. "Been a long day. This hits the spot."

Amara smiled softly, trying to focus on her own plate and the comforting normalcy of the moment. It felt nice, sitting there with all of them, sharing a meal after the chaos of the past few days. But she knew better than to think the peace would last for long.

And, of course, it didn't.

"So, Amara," Sam began, his voice casual but with an edge of playfulness that immediately put her on guard. "You did a great job with training today. Really impressive."

Amara glanced up, her heart skipping a beat at the tone in his voice. "Thanks," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Dean chimed in, his fork hovering just above his plate as he shot her a smirk. "Yeah, sweetheart. You were really... focused."

Amara's cheeks flushed at the memory of their sparring, of how Dean had pressed her—literally—during their training. She quickly looked back down at her plate, her appetite suddenly fading as the heat of their teasing began to creep over her again.

Sam's eyes gleamed with amusement as he took another bite of his pasta, his gaze never leaving hers. "Yeah, especially toward the end. I mean, you were practically... breathless."

Amara's fork froze mid-air, her heart racing as her mind immediately jumped back to the moment she had been caught between the two of them in the training room, her breath stolen by their intensity. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, and she swallowed hard, trying to focus on her food.

Castiel, oblivious to the undercurrent of the conversation, glanced between them, his brows furrowing slightly. "She performed well in training?" He asked, his tone serious, as if he were evaluating her combat performance.

Dean chuckled softly, taking a sip of his beer. "Oh, yeah, Cas. She was great. Really... put in the effort."

Amara's heart was pounding now, her face burning as she desperately tried to ignore the innuendos layered in their words. But it was impossible to miss the dark, teasing glances they kept throwing her way, knowing exactly how their words were affecting her.

"She kept up," Sam added, his tone smooth and laced with amusement. "Though there was a moment when she almost lost control."

Amara nearly choked on her pasta, her hand gripping the fork tightly as she stared down at her plate. She could feel the intensity of their eyes on her, waiting for her reaction, and it took everything in her to keep her composure.