Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

t h i r t y - f i v e

"I am not your friend.
I am just a man who knows how to feel.
I am not your friend.
I'm not your lover.
I'm not your family."
Sowing Season (Yeah) - Brand New 

Amara stood in the training room, sweat dripping down her back as she tried to steady her breathing. Her muscles ached from the relentless drills Dean had been putting her through, but it wasn't the physical exhaustion that weighed on her the most. It was the creeping sensation at the back of her mind—the ever-present shadow of Paimon.

Since her conversation with Castiel, Amara had tried to focus on controlling her powers. She had felt stronger, more in control when Sam and Dean were around, but the more she pushed herself, the more she could feel Paimon watching, waiting. His presence was like a cold whisper in the back of her mind, one that she could never quite shake.

Dean circled around her, his eyes sharp as he studied her stance. "You're leaving your left side open," he said, his voice low but authoritative. "Again."

Amara grit her teeth and adjusted, focusing on her form. The energy in the room was thick with tension, not just from the training, but from the distance that had grown between them. She could feel it in Dean—the way he held himself back, the way his emotions flickered with restraint every time he got too close.

"Better," Dean muttered, stepping back, though his gaze never left her. "But you need to stop thinking so much. You're in your head too much, Amara."

"I'm trying," she said, frustration creeping into her voice.

Dean gave her a sharp look, crossing his arms. "You're not trying hard enough."

The intensity in his words sent a shiver through her, but she bit back her retort. He was right. She had been distracted—too focused on the shadows creeping into her mind, on the way Paimon's voice seemed to slip through her thoughts like smoke.

"Again," Dean said, his voice a command.

Amara moved through the drill again, her body aching from the strain, but her focus sharper this time. She could feel Dean's eyes on her, could sense his frustration mixed with something deeper—something he was trying to keep buried.

The tension between them had been simmering for days, ever since that night in the bunker when they had come so close to breaking their promise. She could still feel the weight of that moment hanging between them, unspoken but ever-present.

Just as Amara finished the sequence, the door creaked open, and Sam stepped into the room, his expression unreadable. He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes locking onto hers. "How's she doing?"

Dean glanced at Sam, his lips twitching into a slight smirk. "She's getting better. But she's still too distracted."

Amara shot Dean a look, but Sam's presence seemed to shift the energy in the room. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than usual, and she could feel the intensity in him—the quiet darkness that always seemed to flicker just beneath the surface.

"You're doing fine," Sam said, his voice softer than Dean's, but no less intense. "Just focus."

Amara nodded, her body buzzing with the tension between the three of them. The air felt thick, charged with unspoken emotions and desires, and it was getting harder and harder to keep her focus.

Just as she was about to step back into the drill, a sharp, cold sensation stabbed through her mind. Amara froze, her breath catching in her throat as Paimon's presence washed over her like ice. His voice, dark and insidious, whispered through her thoughts. Evangeline... you can't hide from me.