Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

s i x t y - e i g h t

"'Cause I noticed you don't like me no more
And it breaks my heart
So I'll just drift away
And disappear for a while" 
someday i'll get it - Alek Olsen 

Amara woke to the faint sound of cars passing on the nearby highway, the dim light of dawn filtering through the thin curtains of her motel room. She lay there for a moment, her body heavy with exhaustion, her heart still aching from the events of the previous night. The room felt colder than before, emptier, and she could feel the weight of the growing rift between her and the brothers pressing down on her, suffocating.

She had barely slept, her mind too full of the tension between them. Dean's coldness, Sam's helplessness—it all gnawed at her, keeping her on edge. The curse had driven a wedge between them, and despite everything she had tried, it was only getting worse.

With a heavy sigh, Amara pushed herself up and got ready, her movements slow and deliberate. Her mind kept drifting back to Dean's dismissiveness, the way he had thrown her the ID and waved her off like she didn't matter. And Sam... he had reached out, but even he was slipping, pulled under by the curse. She didn't know how much more distance they could take before something broke.

When she finally stepped outside, the early morning air hit her like a slap, cold and biting. The sun was just starting to rise, casting long shadows across the parking lot, where the Impala was parked. Dean was leaning against the hood, arms crossed over his chest, his face unreadable in the pale light. Sam stood nearby, his gaze on the ground, shoulders hunched in a way that made Amara's heart twist.

They didn't look up when she approached, the silence between them heavy and thick.

"Morning," she said quietly, trying to sound normal, even though nothing felt normal.

Dean glanced at her, but there was no warmth in his eyes, only the hard, cold edge she had seen the night before. He snorted, pushing himself off the car and straightening up. "'Bout time," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear. "Thought we'd be waiting around all day."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She stared at him, her chest tightening painfully. It wasn't just the words themselves—it was the tone, the dismissiveness, the clear indication that he didn't care whether she was there or not. The rift between them had grown overnight, wider and deeper, and it felt like an uncrossable chasm now.

Sam's eyes flickered to her, but he didn't say anything. He just looked tired—exhausted, even—and she could feel the weight of the curse pulling him down, draining him of the energy to fight back. It was like the light that usually burned inside him was flickering, barely holding on.

Amara swallowed hard, her throat tight. She wanted to say something, to defend herself, but the words stuck in her throat. What was the point? It felt like everything she did only made things worse. So instead, she gave a small nod, keeping her head down as she moved toward the car.

The three of them climbed into the Impala, the silence stretching between them like a wall. Amara slid into the backseat, feeling more like an outsider than ever before. The engine roared to life, but the familiar sound of the car that had once been a comforting presence now felt like an empty echo.

Dean drove in silence, his hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly, his knuckles white. Sam stared out the window, his face a mask of weariness and something darker, something Amara couldn't quite place. She reached out with her abilities, just to feel where they were emotionally, but it was like reaching into a void. Their emotions were tangled, twisted beyond recognition, and the curse was feeding on it, growing stronger by the hour.