Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

f i f t y - f o u r

"And I know I talk that talk
But all that I need is to hear that
You want me
And I know I act so tough
But I really need your arms wrapped
Around me
Til I go numb
Til I go numb"
numb - wens 

The bunker's usually calm and quiet atmosphere felt suffocating now, with tension thick in the air. Amara could feel it all—every flicker of worry, every spike of frustration, every pulse of desire radiating off Sam and Dean as they moved through the main room, preparing for what was coming. Tomorrow. It was all leading up to tomorrow.

Her 21st birthday.

She tried to focus on the supplies spread out on the table in front of her—blades, sigils, and talismans all meticulously laid out for the confrontation with Paimon. Castiel was nearby, his expression unreadable as he went over the final steps of the ritual they were planning to perform. Jack hovered close too, his brows furrowed in concentration as he helped double-check everything.

But even as she looked at the tools, her mind wandered. Her empathic abilities were sharper than ever, and with the looming pressure of tomorrow, it was impossible to block out the emotions swirling around her. It was like they were seeping into her, pulling her into their tangled web of tension.

She glanced at Sam, standing across the room, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at a map of ley lines pinned to the wall. His usually calm demeanour was stretched thin, the frustration rolling off him in waves. She could see it in the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands tightened into fists.

Then there was Dean—leaning against the table next to her, his eyes hard and distant as he focused on sharpening a blade. His protectiveness was always palpable, but now, it was mixed with something darker, something that made Amara's skin tingle every time their eyes met.

They were both struggling. She could feel it.

And worse, she was struggling too.

A few days had passed since her last kiss with Sam and Dean. Since then, they had been focused on finding Jack, planning the ritual, and preparing for the final confrontation with Paimon. But that tension, the one that had simmered between the three of them for weeks, still hadn't faded. If anything, it was stronger than ever now, coiling tightly around them, pushing them closer to the edge with every passing moment.

Amara shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her mind flickering back to the vision she had experienced during the failed ritual. Paimon had been there, taunting her, calling her Evangeline like he owned her. He was still out there, waiting.

Her pulse quickened as she pushed the thoughts away. She needed to focus. They were running out of time.

"Amara." Dean's voice cut through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present. She looked up to see him staring at her, his brows furrowed in concern. "You with us?"

She nodded, though her heart was still racing. "Yeah, I'm here."

Dean's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. It had been days since their last real moment of tension—the one that left all three of them on edge—but it still hung in the air between them. Now, with tomorrow looming, the emotions from that night felt more potent than ever.

Dean finally nodded and went back to sharpening his blade, though the tension between them hadn't faded. Amara could feel it in the air, thick and heavy, making it hard to breathe.

Across the room, Sam's gaze flicked over to them, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the exchange. There it was again—the flicker of competitiveness, of protectiveness, of something else that was so charged it made the air around them buzz. Amara could feel it like a current running between the three of them, pulling them closer and closer to a breaking point.