Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

f o r t y - s i x

"You could be the drugs and I could be the dealer
Everything you say is like music to my, music to my ears
Don't mind us we're just spilling our gutsIf this is love I don't wanna be loved
You pollute the room with a filthy tongue" 
Sarcasm - Get Scared 

A few hours had passed since Amara's vision, and the bunker had fallen into a tense, quiet lull. She had spent the time trying to process what she'd seen—what she'd felt. The weight of Paimon's looming threat still pressed against her, but now there was something else. The way Sam and Dean's touch had triggered the vision wasn't something she could easily shake. It had felt... intimate. Powerful.

But now, the brothers were back. She heard their footsteps approaching before either of them spoke, her body already tensing in anticipation. The heavy air between them hadn't lessened since the vision. If anything, it had grown thicker, more palpable.

Dean leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his sharp green eyes studying her. "We need to talk about the vision."

Sam stood beside him, his gaze softer but just as intense. "You said something about us being able to help trigger it. How?"

Amara bit her lip, her fingers tightening in her lap. She hadn't meant to mention that part, but she knew they'd ask eventually. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet their gazes. "It happened when you touched me."

Dean's brow raised, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. "Touched you?"

She nodded, her throat suddenly dry. "Yeah. When you both touched me... it made the vision stronger. I couldn't do it on my own. But when I felt... your connection, it just... happened."

Sam's eyes darkened with understanding, his hand resting on the back of one of the chairs. "So we were part of it."

"More than part of it," she murmured, her voice shaky. "I don't know how or why, but it felt like... like your presence made me more powerful. Like I could see things more clearly because you were there."

Dean smirked, leaning forward slightly, the tension between them shifting into something heavier, something charged. "So, what you're saying is, touching you makes you more powerful."

Amara's cheeks flushed immediately, heat flooding through her as his words settled in. It wasn't just the innuendo—it was the way he said it, the way his gaze lingered on her, teasing yet intense.

Sam's lips quirked slightly, though his eyes remained serious. "Dean."

But Dean wasn't done. He tilted his head, a playful grin forming on his lips. "I mean, if all it takes is a little touch..." He let the sentence trail off, the implication hanging in the air between them.

Amara's heart pounded, her skin buzzing with the weight of their attention. The warmth in the room seemed to double, her breath catching as the air between them thickened. And then, almost instinctively, she felt it happen.

Her powers.

She didn't mean to—didn't even realise it was happening until it was too late. But suddenly, the emotions in the room shifted. Intensified. She could feel it—the desire, the tension, the heat—swirling between them like a live wire, humming with electricity.

Her own emotions were slipping out, unconfined, wrapping around Sam and Dean like an invisible thread. Their desire—her desire—heightened, amplified by the connection that now pulsed between the three of them.

Sam shifted, his expression darkening, but he didn't step back. If anything, he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "Amara," he said, his voice low, thick with something she couldn't quite place. "You're doing it again."