Small Cuts (Supernatural Dark!fic)

o n e - h u n d r e d + t w e n t y

"Time keeps movin' on,
Friends they turn away.
I keep movin' on
But I never found out why
I keep pushing so hard the dream,
I keep tryin' to make it right
Through another lonely day, whoa"
Kozmic Blues - Janis Joplin 

The bunker was quiet, the atmosphere still heavy with the lingering comfort of the night before. Amara sat at the long wooden table in the library, her fingers tracing the spine of a book as she tried to focus on the research scattered before her. Sam and Dean were nearby, sorting through some old tomes they had pulled from the archives. The weight of their shared connection still hung in the air, but something else was building beneath the surface—an unspoken tension, as if they were all waiting for something to break.

That something arrived in the form of a familiar rustle of wings.

Castiel appeared in the room, his trench coat swirling slightly around him as he materialised at the foot of the stairs. His expression was serious, more so than usual, and Amara could immediately feel the heaviness of what he was about to say pressing against her.

"Cas," Dean greeted, setting his book down and stepping forward. "You find anything?"

Castiel nodded, his blue eyes shifting from Dean to Amara. "I did. But it's... more complicated than we thought."

Amara stood, her heart skipping a beat at the tone of his voice. "What did you find?"

Castiel took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto hers. "Your lineage, Amara... it's not just divine. It's tied to something ancient, something that predates most of Heaven's recorded history."

Dean frowned, stepping closer to Castiel. "What do you mean by 'ancient'?"

Castiel glanced between them, his expression grim. "There's a prophecy. One that speaks of a 'Key of Balance.' This key, this... person, is said to hold the power to either restore or shatter the balance between Heaven, Hell, and Earth. And according to what I've found, Amara... you are that key."

Amara's breath caught in her throat, her mind racing as the weight of his words sank in. "The Key of Balance?"

Sam stepped forward, his brow furrowed with concern. "What does that mean? What's she supposed to do?"

Castiel's expression softened as he looked at Amara, but his voice remained steady. "It means that your powers, your very existence, are tied to the balance between realms. If you choose to restore the balance, it will bring peace. But if you—if the balance is shattered, it could destroy the natural order and lead to chaos across all realms."

Amara felt the weight of his words pressing down on her, the enormity of the situation making her stomach twist. "So... it's my choice?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes. The prophecy is clear—no one can force your hand. The decision is yours alone."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, his expression tense. "So, no pressure or anything."

Before anyone could respond, there was a familiar crackle of energy, and suddenly, Crowley materialised in the room, his usual smirk in place as he surveyed the group.

"Well, well, well," Crowley drawled, his eyes flicking between them with amusement. "The Key of Balance, is it? I knew there was something special about you, love."

Dean's jaw clenched, and he stepped forward, clearly annoyed. "Crowley, what the hell are you doing here?"

Crowley raised an eyebrow, looking entirely unbothered by Dean's aggression. "Oh, don't be so touchy, Squirrel. I came to offer my... insights."