Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

f o r t y - t h r e e

"You let your feet run wild
Time has come as we all, oh, go down
Yeah but for the fall, ooh, my
Do you dare to look him right in the eyes? Yeah
Oh, 'cause they will run you down, down 'til the dark
Yes and they will run you down, down 'til you fall
And they will run you down, down 'til you go
Yeah, so you can't crawl no moreAnd way down we go"
Way Down We Go - KALEO 

The bunker had settled into a strange quiet as Amara sat alone in the library, her fingers tracing the edge of the book in front of her without really focusing on the words. Her mind was elsewhere, tangled up in the emotions of the brothers. It was only a week until her 21st birthday, and the weight of the rule they had set was pressing down on all of them.

The connection she had with Sam and Dean had only grown stronger over time, and while the tension between them continued to simmer just beneath the surface, it had also softened in quiet moments. She had found herself growing closer to both of them—more comfortable in their presence, even when that comfort was wrapped up in desire.

But now, a new tension was creeping in.

There was a heaviness in the air, something lurking in the background that she couldn't quite place. It gnawed at her, making her restless, as if the peace they had found was about to be shattered.

Just as her thoughts began to spiral, Sam appeared in the doorway, his broad frame leaning casually against the doorframe as he watched her. The faintest smile touched his lips, but there was something in his eyes—something that told her he sensed the same unease.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft, steady. "You okay?"

Amara forced a small smile, nodding, though her heart wasn't in it. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking."

Sam stepped into the room, his presence filling the space as he moved toward her. He had that quiet way of making her feel like everything was under control, even when it wasn't. His calm was grounding, but today it wasn't enough to shake the feeling of dread building in her chest.

He sat beside her on the couch, close enough that their legs brushed, and the warmth of his body seeped into hers. "You don't seem fine," he said, his voice dropping lower, more serious. "You've been off all day."

Amara hesitated, biting her lip as she considered how much to tell him. She couldn't quite explain what she was feeling—it was more of a sense, an intuition. But Sam had always been the one she could talk to, the one who understood her on a deeper level.

"I don't know," she admitted finally. "It's just... something feels wrong."

Sam's brow furrowed, his concern evident in the way he leaned closer, his hand resting gently on her knee. "Like what?"

Amara shook her head, frustration bubbling up inside her. "I can't put my finger on it. It's like there's something lurking... something I can't see, but I know it's there."

Sam's hand tightened slightly on her knee, his jaw clenching as he processed her words. He knew better than anyone how powerful her intuition was, how connected she was to the supernatural world in ways she couldn't fully understand yet.

"Do you think it's Paimon?" Sam asked, his voice quiet but tense.

The question sent a chill down her spine. She had been trying to avoid thinking about Paimon, hoping that the severance from his influence would keep him at bay. But deep down, she knew better. He wasn't gone—not really. He was still out there, waiting, watching.

"I don't know," she whispered. "But it feels like him. It feels like... he's getting closer."

Sam's hand slid from her knee to her thigh, the touch both comforting and charged with an underlying intensity. "We'll figure it out. We're not going to let him get to you."