Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

o n e - h u n d r e d + e l e v e n

"She wanna move around and hold on to the dreams
That she's dreaming
She wanna lose the frown and turn it upside down
And start living
Ah, ah, ah, don't blame the time on your wrist
For not doing what makes you tick
Don't blame your clock on the wall
For running round with nothing at all"
Honey - Swim Deep 

The days blurred together in a haze of pain and exhaustion. Amara drifted in and out of consciousness, sometimes aware of the soft murmur of voices around her, the steady rhythm of footsteps nearby, but it all felt distant, muffled, as though she were wrapped in a thick fog.

Each time she surfaced from the darkness, the pain was a little less sharp, her body a little lighter, though the ache in her bones remained. Castiel's healing had helped; she could feel it in the way her chest no longer screamed with every breath, and how her ribs had begun to mend. Jack had come by during this time, his quiet presence reassuring, even if her mind had been too clouded to fully acknowledge him.

Through it all, Sam and Dean stayed with her. She could sense their presence even when she wasn't fully awake. They were always close, watching over her, their emotions a steady hum in the background—warm, protective, but still tinged with worry. She felt the shifts as they traded places, taking turns to shower or eat, but neither strayed far for long.

The passage of time was lost to her. Hours bled into days, and still, the world felt distant, her mind swimming through the thick fog that clung to her like a second skin. It was as though her body was waiting for permission to fully wake, to heal.

And then, one morning, she surfaced more fully than before.

Her eyes blinked open, the dim light of the bunker flickering above her. For the first time in days, the haze had lifted, replaced by a clearer sense of awareness. She could feel the ache in her body, the dull throb of her injuries, but it wasn't overwhelming like before. It was manageable—something she could face.

With a slow, deliberate effort, she pushed herself up, wincing slightly as her ribs protested the movement. But she sat up, her breathing steady as she finally looked around.

Sam was the first to notice. He had been sitting by the foot of the bed, reading something to keep his mind occupied, but the moment she stirred, he was on his feet, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and relief. "Amara?"

She turned her head slowly to look at him, managing a small smile despite the lingering pain. "Hey."

The simple word carried more weight than she realised. Sam's face softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he moved closer. He placed a hand gently on her arm, as though reassuring himself that she was really awake. "You're... you're sitting up."

Amara nodded, her smile widening just slightly, though it still hurt to move. "I feel... better. Still sore, but... better."

The relief in Sam's eyes was palpable, washing over her in a wave of warmth that made her chest tighten. She could feel it—his relief, his joy, his gratitude that she was finally herself again. It was like a heavy weight had been lifted from both of them.

Dean appeared a moment later, his footsteps hurried as he entered the room, eyes flicking between Sam and Amara as if trying to catch up. His expression was unreadable at first, but the moment he saw her sitting up, fully awake, his face softened, a breath escaping him that he hadn't realised he was holding.

"You're up," he said, his voice rough with emotion, though he tried to hide it behind his usual gruffness. "About damn time."

Amara smiled at him, her heart swelling at the sight of both brothers standing by her, their emotions wrapping around her in a comforting warmth. "I couldn't stay down forever."