Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

n i n e t y - s e v e n

"In the end, if I fall or if I get it all
I just hope that it's worth it"
Nervous - The Neighbourhood

The morning was still and quiet, the soft light of dawn filtering through the windows of the war room. Amara sat at the large table, her fingers tracing over the scattered papers and notes in front of her. She had been up for hours, going over the plan, the ritual, and the pieces they still needed to gather. Her mind buzzed with the weight of it all—the Primordial Entity, the danger looming over her, the unknowns.

As much as she trusted Sam, Dean, and Castiel, there was still that gnawing fear in the back of her mind. She didn't know what they were truly up against, and the uncertainty made her chest tight.

She sighed, leaning back in her chair, rubbing her temples as she tried to refocus. It was early, too early for anyone else to be awake, so she figured she'd have the quiet to herself for a little while longer.

But she wasn't alone for long.

Without warning, the lights in the room flickered, and Amara's heart skipped a beat. She felt the shift in the air, the unmistakable crackle of energy that announced the arrival of someone powerful.

Her stomach twisted as the familiar, unsettling presence settled in behind her.

"Well, aren't you up bright and early," Crowley's smooth, accented voice broke the silence. "Plotting how to save the world, are we?"

Amara stiffened, forcing herself to stay calm as she slowly turned around to face him. Crowley leaned casually against the doorway, his ever-present smirk plastered across his face. He was dressed sharply, as usual, his suit immaculate, and his eyes gleamed with that mix of amusement and something darker.

"Crowley," Amara said, her voice steady but laced with caution. "I didn't expect to see you this early."

Crowley pushed off the doorframe, strolling into the room with the confidence of someone who always knew exactly what was going on. "Oh, I'm always around, darling. Just a matter of whether you notice me or not."

Amara frowned, her pulse quickening as he moved closer. She kept her expression neutral, but her unease bubbled beneath the surface. Crowley was a demon—the demon—and despite everything, despite Castiel and the brothers telling her he was on their side, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was playing a dangerous game with him.

"What do you want?" She asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

Crowley raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her guardedness. "Oh, come now. No need to be so hostile. I'm here to help, remember?"

Amara said nothing, watching him closely as he sauntered over to the table, his fingers trailing over the edges of the papers she had been studying. He didn't seem to care about the details—he was more interested in her.

She felt her pulse spike as an idea formed in the back of her mind. Maybe she could use her powers, subtly, to figure out what he was really after. She had seen the brothers' memories before; maybe she could tap into Crowley's mind without him noticing, find out what he wasn't telling them.

As Crowley leaned closer to her, his smirk never faltering, she concentrated, trying to reach out with her powers, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"I've been keeping an eye on you for a while now," Crowley said, his voice dropping to a quieter, more conversational tone. "Long before this Primordial mess ever reared its ugly head."

Amara's breath hitched, but she didn't react outwardly. "Why?"

Crowley's eyes gleamed with something dark, something knowing. "Oh, darling, do you really think someone with your... talents would go unnoticed? I knew about you long before you knew about yourself."