Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

e i g h t y - f o u r

"And now, it's time
To leave and turn
To dust" 
To Build A Home - The Cinematic Orchestra 

The room was still cold as Amara, Sam, and Dean descended the stairs, but the oppressive weight that had hung over the house had lifted. The dark, suffocating presence of her mother's spirit was gone, and with it, the hold her past had on her. Amara's heart was still racing, her emotions raw from the confrontation, but there was a sense of calm settling over her now. She had faced the ghost of her mother—and she had won.

Her father stood at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and hope. He had heard the commotion, the flickering lights, the cold air, and now he waited, his face etched with worry.

When Amara stepped into the room, he looked at her with a mixture of guilt and desperation, as though he was waiting for her to say something that would make everything better. His hands trembled slightly as he took a small step forward.

"Is... is she gone?" He asked, his voice shaky.

Amara stopped a few feet away from him, Sam and Dean standing protectively on either side of her. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before she spoke. "She's gone," she said quietly. "She's passed on."

Her father's face crumpled slightly, his shoulders slumping with the weight of everything that had happened. There was relief there, but also a deep, aching sorrow. He had lost his wife, and now, in a way, he was losing his daughter too.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. The silence between them was thick, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid for years. But Amara knew that there was one last thing she had to say, one final piece of closure she needed before she could walk away.

"I forgive you," Amara said softly, her voice trembling but steady. Her father's eyes snapped up to meet hers, surprise and confusion flickering across his face. "I forgive you for what you did. For what you let happen to me."

Her father's breath hitched, and for a moment, it looked as though he might break down completely. His eyes welled with tears, and he shook his head, his voice cracking. "Amara, I... I don't deserve your forgiveness. I failed you. I should have protected you."

Amara's throat tightened, her emotions swirling inside her, but she stood firm. "You did fail me," she said, her voice laced with quiet conviction. "You should have protected me. You should have stopped her. But you didn't. And I can't change that. I can't go back and undo the years of pain and fear."

Her father's face crumpled, the guilt and regret washing over him in waves. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I... I thought I was doing the right thing."

Amara's chest tightened, the weight of his words sinking in. She could see the pain in his eyes, the remorse that had festered over the years, but she couldn't let that change what had happened. She couldn't let it erase the past.

"I forgive you," she repeated, her voice soft but full of strength. "But forgiveness doesn't erase what you did. It doesn't mend what happened. I'll never forget. I can't forget."

Her father's shoulders slumped further, the weight of her words pressing down on him like a stone. "I understand," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Amara's heart ached, but there was a sense of calm settling over her now, a quiet acceptance of what had been and what could never be. "I needed to forgive you," she said softly. "For me. I needed to let go of the anger, the fear. But that doesn't mean I can forget. And it doesn't mean I can have you in my life."

Her father's breath hitched again, but he nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I understand," he whispered again, his voice breaking with the weight of it all. "I... I'll never stop being sorry, Amara."