Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

f i f t y - s e v e n

"And when I think of all the places I just don't belong
I've come to grips with life and realise this is going too far
I don't belong here, we gotta move on, dear
Escape from this afterlife
'Cause this time I'm right to move on and on
Far away from here" 
Afterlife - Avenged Sevenfold 

The air in the church was thick with tension, an almost palpable darkness pressing down on them. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the ancient stone walls, and Amara's breath came in shallow bursts as she stood between Sam and Dean. Her heart pounded in her chest as Paimon's dark form twisted and flickered in the shadows, his voice curling around them like poison.

"You think this will end well for you?" Paimon hissed, his voice vibrating with malice. "You're all weak. I know your secrets. Your fears. You have no power here."

Amara's pulse quickened as she watched the brothers, their faces hardened in determination, but she could feel it—the cracks beneath their strength. Paimon's words slithered into their minds, twisting, prying at their vulnerabilities.

Dean stepped forward, holding the Blade of Belial in his hand, but even as he gripped the weapon tightly, Amara could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

"You couldn't save your father," Paimon sneered, his voice digging into Dean's mind like claws. "You couldn't save anyone. You think you can save her? You'll fail again, Dean Winchester. Just like you've always failed."

Dean's jaw clenched, his knuckles white around the blade, but his silence spoke volumes. Amara felt the weight of his guilt wash over her, so heavy it made her own heart stutter in her chest. She could feel the self-loathing, the rage bubbling beneath the surface. He was breaking, and Paimon knew it.

"Dean," Amara whispered, but her voice was barely audible, drowned out by Paimon's taunting laughter.

And then Paimon turned his gaze to Sam.

"And you," Paimon snarled, his voice dripping with contempt. "Always pretending to be the better brother, always running from the darkness inside of you. But we both know the truth, don't we? You crave it. You're no better than me."

Sam's face tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. Amara could feel the ripple of fear running through him—the same fear she'd sensed before. Fear of what he was capable of. Fear of what he might become. His darkness had always been just beneath the surface, and Paimon was dragging it out, making it rise like a storm.

Amara's head swam with their emotions—Dean's guilt, Sam's fear. It pressed against her, suffocating, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe.

I have to do something.

The thought sparked in her mind, but it was buried under the weight of everything. Paimon's power was too strong. His darkness too deep. What could she possibly do?

"You can end this now," Paimon whispered, his voice suddenly soft, coaxing. "Just surrender, Evangeline. Accept what you are. Let me take what's mine, and I'll spare them."

Amara's heart lurched. The temptation to stop fighting, to just let go, was suffocating. If she gave in... maybe it would stop. Maybe the pain, the suffering... maybe it would all end.

Her knees wobbled, the weight of it all pulling her down, when suddenly, she remembered. The vision. The runes. The blood.

She blinked, the fog lifting from her mind just enough for her to see through the haze. Her bloodline—divine. That's it. The runes needed her blood.

Amara looked at Sam and Dean, her voice shaky but determined. "It's my blood," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "The runes need my blood to banish him."