Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

n i n e t y - s i x

"But I'm in so deep
You know I'm such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger"
Linger - The Cranberries

The early morning light filtered into the training room, casting long shadows across the floor as Amara stretched out her limbs. The air was still cool, a slight chill brushing against her skin, but the heat of the upcoming session had her pulse already racing. Sam and Dean stood nearby, both serious as they discussed techniques and strategies.

"Alright, let's keep this focused," Dean said, his voice firm. "You've been getting stronger, but we don't want to push it too far."

Amara nodded, her gaze steady as she took in their instructions. They had been working with her relentlessly, helping her hone both her physical skills and her supernatural abilities. Today was no different—at least, not at first.

Sam stepped forward, taking up a stance in front of her. "Let's start with sparring. You're already faster, but you've got to anticipate my moves before I make them."

Amara squared her shoulders, dropping into a ready stance. "I'll try."

Sam moved first, quick and precise, testing her reaction time with a few well-aimed strikes. Amara blocked and countered, her focus sharp. Each hit landed harder, but she met every move with equal force, the sound of their sparring filling the room.

Dean watched from the side, his arms crossed, nodding approvingly. "She's got the form down. No hesitation."

Amara caught the compliment and smiled briefly, but her attention remained on Sam. He pushed her harder, faster, his movements fluid and relentless. She dodged and countered, the tension between them rising with every strike.

"Don't let up," Sam urged, his breath coming heavier now. "Keep going."

Amara pushed forward, her muscles burning as she aimed for an opening, but as she moved in, she caught a glance between Sam and Dean—an unspoken conversation passing between them. They weren't even looking at her anymore, though she could feel the weight of their words.

"She's getting good," Dean muttered, still watching them but not fully engaged. "Think she could take us both?"

Sam chuckled, shaking his head slightly, though his eyes stayed focused on Amara. "Maybe. But she's not there yet."

Amara's heart skipped a beat. They were talking about her as if she wasn't in the room, their voices low and casual. She knew this game—they liked to do this, to fluster her, to make her feel like she was something they admired and studied. And though they weren't looking at her directly, she could feel their attention, feel the heat building between them as their voices dropped into more intimate tones.

"She's got a lot of potential," Dean said, his voice teasing now. "Strong, smart... not bad to look at, either."

Amara's pulse quickened, the charge in the air almost palpable. Sam threw a half-hearted strike, which she easily dodged, but her focus was wavering. She was too aware of them now—of the way they were speaking about her, analysing her, almost admiring her.

"I don't know," Sam replied, a smirk playing on his lips. "She might just surprise us."

Amara's cheeks flushed, her movements slowing as their words sank in. They weren't sparring seriously anymore—this was something else. The brothers' voices dropped lower, their eyes no longer fixed on her but still somehow managing to pull her into their orbit.

"She's definitely got something," Dean murmured, his gaze flicking briefly toward her before returning to Sam. "I mean, we always knew she was special, but..."