Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

t h i r t y - f o u r

"'And I built a home
For you
For me
Until it disappeared
From me
From you
And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust"
To Build A Home - The Cinematic Orchestra

It had been a few days since the last hunt, but the tension between Amara and the brothers still hung heavy in the air. Since that night, something had shifted. She could feel the emotional walls they had carefully built up, and now, it felt like they were pushing her away, creating a quiet distance that hadn't been there before.

Amara couldn't explain why, but the distance hurt. It wasn't just physical; it was in the way they looked at her—like they were trying to hold themselves back. She could sense it, the restraint thick in the air, suffocating. It made her restless, her skin prickling with the weight of their unsaid words and unfinished moments.

But the worst of it wasn't the distance. It was the dreams.

Every night since the hunt, she had dreamt of Paimon. His voice would echo in her mind, a low, dark whisper, winding its way through her thoughts like smoke. Evangeline, he would call her, you can't escape me. The dreams were vivid—too vivid. She could feel his cold presence brushing against her skin, his influence stronger than it had ever been before.

And every time she woke, she felt weaker.

Tonight was no different.

Amara jolted upright in bed, her heart pounding in her chest, the echo of Paimon's voice still ringing in her ears. The room was dark, shadows pooling in the corners, but she could feel it—his lingering presence. She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched, of being trapped.

He's getting stronger.

The thought chilled her. Paimon wasn't just a distant threat anymore. He was slipping into her mind, creeping into her dreams, testing her defences.

But something else had been happening too—something that confused her as much as it scared her. When she was near Sam and Dean, she felt... stronger. It was as though their emotions, their presence, gave her power. She could sense their feelings with a clarity that had never been there before—like the colours she saw around them were growing sharper, more vibrant.

It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

She threw back the covers and slipped out of bed, her feet padding softly against the cold bunker floor. She needed to clear her head, to get away from the claustrophobia of the dream. Her body still hummed with tension, every nerve on edge as she made her way toward the kitchen.

But as she entered, she wasn't alone.

Dean stood at the counter, his back to her as he poured a glass of water. The tension radiating off him was unmistakable, his emotions a storm she could feel from across the room. Amara hesitated for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. She didn't know if she could handle the tension tonight—not after everything with Paimon. But as if sensing her presence, Dean turned, his eyes dark and shadowed with exhaustion.

"Couldn't sleep?" His voice was gruff, laced with a quiet frustration that only made the distance between them more palpable.

Amara shook her head, leaning against the doorway. "No... nightmares."

Dean's jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with something she couldn't quite read. "Paimon?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to say more.

Dean let out a long breath, setting his glass down on the counter. "You need to be careful, Amara. He's getting stronger. If he's getting into your head..."