Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

t w e n t y - n i n e

"Yeah, she likes it rough
But I don't think that she likes the things that I love
I need more
Than she wants to give, no
I know, yeah, I know you want me to change
But I'm fucked in the head
I can't break
I know, yeah, I know you want me to change, oh" 
Need to Change - Landon Tewers 

The weight of Amara's vision still clung to the air, thickening it with a palpable sense of dread. The tension that had once been playful had long since evaporated, replaced by something darker and more foreboding. Amara could feel it gnawing at the edges of her consciousness, the memory of Paimon's voice echoing through her mind.

Dean paced back and forth, the familiar creak of his boots against the bunker's cold floor punctuating the silence. He hadn't stopped moving since Amara had recounted her vision, frustration etched deeply into every line of his face.

"An army?" He muttered, his voice low and filled with barely concealed frustration. "How the hell are we supposed to fight a demon with an army?"

Sam, sitting across from Amara at the table, flipped through one of the thick demonology books with a focused frown. He was quiet, his brow furrowed as if searching for answers within the worn pages, but there was something else beneath his calm demeanour—something far more concerned.

"It's not just the army," Sam said finally, his voice breaking through the tension in the room. "It's the fact that Paimon believes Amara is his. That's what worries me."

Amara sat in silence, her hands folded tightly in her lap. She could still feel the vision's cold grip on her, its darkness seeping into her bones. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Paimon's twisted smile, heard the malevolent way he had spoken her birth name—Evangeline—as if he owned her. Her body trembled involuntarily, though she tried to hide it.

Dean stopped pacing, his gaze flicking to her. "He doesn't own you," he said sharply, almost as if he could sense her doubt. "Don't let him get in your head."

She met his eyes, searching for the strength he seemed to believe she had. But the truth was, Paimon's presence was more terrifying than anything she'd ever encountered. His influence was suffocating, and no matter how much she wanted to believe she was stronger than him, the fear remained.

Castiel stood nearby, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp with thought. He crossed his arms over his chest, his trench coat billowing slightly as he shifted his stance. "Paimon's power stretches farther than most demons we've encountered," he said, his voice steady. "If he's gathering forces, we need to figure out why. We need to understand his plan."

Amara swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She could still feel Paimon—his voice, his presence—lingering like a shadow in her mind. "He's been watching me for years," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "Longer than I ever knew. He called me Evangeline, like he's always been there... waiting."

Dean's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "That's not your name anymore. You don't belong to him. Don't let him use it against you."

Amara's gaze dropped to her hands, her breath shaky. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that she was more than Paimon's claim. But after what she had seen in the vision—the dark figures gathering around the demon, the way his power seemed to grow stronger with each passing second—she couldn't shake the feeling that he had some kind of hold over her.

"We need to dig deeper," Sam said, breaking the silence. His fingers traced the edges of the book in front of him, though his eyes remained focused on her. "There's got to be something—some kind of weakness or a way to cut him off from this army. Castiel, what do you know about ancient demons like Paimon?"