Going Solo - SPN
Jun. 19th, 2016 10:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mayalaenTitle: Going Solo
Pairing: None/Genfic
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG/Young Adult/Non-Explicit
Word Count: 4.5k
Alternate Link: AO3
Full List of Kinks and/or Warnings:spanking, parental discipline, no sex, crying, preseris
Setting: Preseries
Summary: Dean wanted to show John he was ready to hunt on his own, but he chose the wrong way to do it, and he has to face the consequences after nearly getting Bobby killed. Set shortly before John and Dean part ways while Sam’s at Stanford.
A/N: Another fic that’s been sitting in my folder for a long time. I wrote it in Season 2, right around the time there were a lot of John feels going around and I kept re-watching scenes where John interacted with his boys.
It wasn’t until the shot missed its mark that Dean fully began to panic. He was not the type to lose his cool in any situation, but this wasn’t just any situation.
His heart rate jumped as he watched the werewolf throw its head back and howl out its anger at being shot in the arm. He had only managed to piss it off. Dean’s fingers froze as the werewolf turned toward him and growled.
“Dean, down!” John yelled from his vantage point.
Dean immediately dropped to the ground. A fraction of a second later he heard the gunshot followed closely by the sound of the werewolf falling to the ground just a few yards away from him.
His fingers were still in a death grip around his gun, but he didn’t dare move yet. He waited as he heard John and Bobby cautiously approach the body.
“It’s dead,” Bobby confirmed.
For some reason, the fact that the werewolf was dead did nothing to calm Dean down. He shivered as the last few minutes caught up with him. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath as he waited for his father to start in with the yelling.
“Bobby, take Dean and meet me at the motel,” John said with a voice Dean knew was tightly controlled.
Dean panted into the dirt as he heard his dad walk past him and get into his truck. The pain in his stomach nearly made him vomit right then and there.
“Get in the car, Dean,” Bobby ordered as he headed toward the Impala.
Dean shakily got to first his knees, and then stood up. He looked toward his father’s truck to see the man just sitting in the driver’s seat. Dean winced. This was going to be bad. Dean figured John probably wouldn’t take him on a hunt ever again, let alone allow him to ever hunt on his own.
Dean walked on legs that felt like rubber, and slid into the passenger seat of the Impala. He slinked down in the seat and wrapped his arms around his stomach.
Bobby started the car, and they left John behind. Dean wanted to tell Bobby to wait for his father, but he couldn’t seem to form the words. And what about the body? Shouldn’t they be helping John? His stomach was clenching so badly, he wondered if he would throw up if he tried to speak.
“I’d suggest you use this time to come up with a damn good reason for what you did back there, boy, because you’re daddy’s gonna be asking you soon enough,” Bobby drawled.
Dean watched the highway markers as they flew by. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have disobeyed a direct order like that? He knew better.
They pulled into the parking lot of the motel all too soon for Dean’s liking. Dean looked at the flickering L in the sign for the motel. Any other time he would have smiled at the fact that that sign intermittently advertised a mote.
Bobby turned the car off and got out. Dean watched as Bobby started to walk up to the motel room door. The man stopped and turned. He let out a sigh, then started toward the passenger door.
“You can’t hide in here all night, Dean,” Bobby said, sounding anything but amused as he opened the car door.
Dean wordlessly got out and followed Bobby into the room. Dean stood in the middle of the room with his back to the door. What should he do now?
“You can park yourself right over there in that chair,” Bobby said from so close behind Dean that it made Dean jump.
“Yes, sir,” Dean whispered, unable to keep from responding to the direct order. Dean sat down, keeping his eyes glued to his hands in his lap.
Bobby went into the small bathroom and got himself a glass of water. He then sat down across the table from Dean. Dean thought Bobby might start in on him, but the man merely drank his water, set the empty glass down on the table between them.
Dean felt a brief moment of anger as he reminded himself that he was twenty-three. There were hunters out there younger than him that were flying solo. Then again, those hunters didn’t fuck up as royally as Dean had tonight, either. He had nearly gotten Bobby killed tonight. The thought made him squeeze his eyes shut tight.
It seemed like hours that the two sat in silence. Dean couldn’t help replaying those few minutes in his head over and over again. He should’ve known better. Sticking with the plan would’ve been the smart thing to do.
By the time Dean heard the truck’s engine, he wasn’t sure if he was happy or scared that his dad was finally there. When the motel room door finally opened, Dean didn’t know what he should do. Bobby had told him to sit, so he decided to stay seated.
Dean sat trembling as he watched his father take off his coat and drape it over the nearest bed. Without looking at Dean, the man walked over to the window and looked out at seemingly nothing.
Dean wanted someone to say something. The silence was killing him, but he didn’t want to be the one to break it. Besides that, some smart-ass comment would probably be the first thing out of his mouth, and then he knew he would be dead.
“Bobby,” John said, his deep, gravely voice giving nothing away. “Would you mind stepping outside for a few minutes while I have a chat with my son?”
Dean looked up at Bobby and saw the man nod. “Sure thing, John,” Bobby said as he got out of his seat. He picked up a gun, put it in the back of his pants, and walked out, leaving Dean alone with his father.
John didn’t move from his spot at the window. The whole thing was unnerving Dean terribly. When John was mad, he wasn’t usually the silent type. If you had done something wrong, you heard about it.
Dean knew he had gone over the line this time, but it wasn’t unforgivable, was it? Had he totally ruined his relationship with his father once and for all? Damn, but he felt bad about this one.
“Dean,” John finally started, the noise making Dean flinch, “was there any part of tonight’s plan that you didn’t understand?”
Dean’s mouth suddenly went dry. His throat seemed to close off. “N-no, sir,” Dean finally replied. John moved from the window, and came to stand in front of Dean. It took all of Dean’s willpower to make himself look his dad in the eye, but he did it.
“Then I’d like you to explain to me why you nearly got Bobby killed out there tonight,” John said. There was such an eerie calm to John’s voice that it sent a shiver through Dean.
“I’m sorry,” Dean said, his voice barely making it above a whisper. He felt terrible. The fact that Bobby could’ve died tonight because of him was just about killing him.
“I didn’t ask for an apology. I want you to answer the question,” John said, a slight bit of irritation creeping into his voice.
Dean quickly tried to think of a way to say what had been going through his mind without sounding like the shit that it was. How could he explain his side of things without sounding like a petulant four-year-old?
“Dean,” John barked.
Dean flinched again. “I,” Dean squeaked. He swallowed and tried again. “I thought if I could take it down myself, you’d see that I could hunt on my own,” Dean explained, ending on a whisper. The look on his father’s face nearly made Dean look down at his hands again, but he forced himself to keep looking his dad in the eye.
“So you decided to disobey orders and make your own plans without telling any of your fellow hunters,” John said, making it sound so bad for Dean. “You decided to, instead of back the two of us up, go ahead and shoot it yourself. You purposely went to a different location, and shot the damn thing in the arm, Dean! Bobby was closest! What if the thing had gone for Bobby instead of you? What if I hadn’t been standing right where I was and had the opportunity to shoot it?” John questioned, voice getting louder and louder.
“I’m sorry,” Dean offered again. He knew it sounded lame, but what could he say?
“You know what your behavior tonight says to me?” John asked.
Dean shook his head. “What?”
“It doesn’t tell me you’re ready to hunt on your own, little boy. It tells me you shouldn’t even be out there hunting in the first place!” John bellowed.
The words hurt badly enough that Dean winced. They hurt because he knew they were true. A hunter worth anything wouldn’t have pulled the stunt that he had tonight. Dean looked down at his hands.
John leaned down, putting a hand on the arm rests on either side of Dean. Dean couldn’t help but look up at his father with wide eyes. “If you think I’m just going to stand by while you go off and get yourself and others killed, then you are sadly mistaken,” John said, voice almost a growl.
Dean felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know what to do. He finally exhaled when John stood back up. The man walked over to the bed farthest from the door and sat down on the edge of it.
“Stand up,” John ordered.
Dean stood immediately and turned to his father. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do, so he just stood there, waiting for an order.
“Take off your jacket, and put it on the chair,” John said, clearly another order.
Dean couldn’t help but follow the orders yet again. He nearly dropped the jacket with numb fingers before finally draping it over the back of the chair. “What are you going to...?”
“I’m going to spank you is what I’m going to do,” John said, cutting off his son mid sentence.
The shock that went through Dean’s system actually made him flinch. A tingling was left in its wake. He stood stock still, eyes wide, mouth open as he tried to gauge his father’s mood. Was he actually serious?
“Come over here,” John said as he pointed to the floor in front of him.
Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The thought that maybe John was just trying to scare him popped into his head, but it was quickly chased away by the little voice in his head that said John never gives empty threats. John never fails to follow through on something he said he would do.
Dean nervously fingered the seam on his jeans. If he didn’t know better, he would say that his dad was giving him time to think everything through in his head.
“Dad, I--”
“One,” John said, looking Dean right in the eye.
Dean shivered. If counting meant the same thing as it did when he was little, he could very easily earn himself another spanking before bed. He was still trying to wrap his head around what was happening now, much less even considering getting it again later. “Please don’t--”
“Two,” John said, cutting off his son yet again.
Dean couldn’t take the chance that his father was bluffing. He tried to calm himself as he walked the few steps to his father’s feet. He could do this. So his father wanted to beat the shit out of him for fucking up. He not only could take it, he deserved it.
As soon as Dean stopped in front of him, John reached up and began undoing his son’s jeans. Dean’s hands flew to his father’s before he even thought it through. “Are you going to fight me on this?” John asked, menacing tone on full as he looked up at his son.
Dean immediately backed his hands off and held them out to his sides. “No, sir,” he mumbled.
John didn’t waste any time. As soon as the zipper was down, he slipped his fingers beneath both the jeans and Dean’s shorts and tugged down.
Dean gasped, but he resisted the urge to pull his shirt down to cover himself. He hadn’t expected the shorts to come down to his knees, too. Dean didn’t have long to be embarrassed, though. John grabbed Dean by his left forearm and pulled, sending Dean sprawling across his father’s lap. The way John was sitting--turned a little to the left--allowed Dean’s upper body to be supported by the bed while his legs hung freely in between John’s.
Dean felt his father’s steadying left hand come to rest on his lower back. “We both know what you did wrong tonight, but I’d like to hear it from you. What are you getting this spanking for?” John asked.
Dean felt like scrambling away. This wasn’t really happening, was it? Dean had to force himself to stay where he was. He cringed at John’s words. He hated saying what he had done wrong. It always seemed so much worse when it was said it out loud.
Dean fisted the bedspread with both hands. All he could think of was how much worse this night could have turned out. What would they have done if the thing had gone after Bobby? He deserved anything his father could dish out and much more.
Dean took a quick cleansing breath before he started. “I made up a plan of my own without telling anyone else about it. I directly disobeyed orders. I left my post. I shot at the werewolf, missing my target, nearly getting Bobby killed,” Dean listed, ending on a wince. He knew what was coming next. His whole body tensed in anticipation.
“What else, Dean?” John asked.
The question surprised Dean. What did he mean? He hadn’t done anything else tonight, had he? He quickly reviewed the night in his head, but he didn’t come up with anything. “I-I don’t know, sir,” Dean finally admitted, hoping it wouldn’t piss his father off any more than he already was.
“You put yourself in danger,” John said softly.
“Oh,” Dean said stupidly. His stomach clenched just a bit at the knowledge that his father cared enough to say that. He knew the man loved him, but to hear him say something like that, well, it just made him feel good.
“How long did you have this little plan in that head of yours?” John asked.
Dean felt his father’s right hand come to rest on the back of his left thigh. He felt so vulnerable. Interrogation in this position was just cruel in Dean’s opinion. He really didn’t want to answer the question. “As soon as we put it all together and figured out it was a werewolf,” Dean said, his breath quickening.
“Yesterday morning?” John asked, sounding surprised.
“Yes, sir,” Dean replied, eyes squeezed shut as if he could suddenly disappear.
“So you’ve been lying to me since yesterday morning,” John said, that growl back again.
Dean immediately started shaking his head no. Lying was the worst offense in John’s book. There was no way Dean wanted to be caught lying. “No, sir!” Dean said, his chest feeling tighter.
“Conveniently not telling the whole truth is just as bad, son,” John informed Dean.
Dean let out a soft whimper. This was bad. This was getting worse by the second. “I’m sorry,” Dean tried again. He wished he could be anywhere but right here, right now.
“If you ever even think about pulling shit like you did tonight again, you’re gonna be right back in this position so fast it’ll make your head spin,” John threatened.
Dean was so nervous and trying so hard to think of a way to placate his father that he didn’t notice John’s right hand had left his thigh until he heard a crack and pain blossomed from his backside. Dean winced, trying hard not to make a noise.
It wasn’t until the third smack that Dean realized John wasn’t going to go easy on him. This hurt worse than he ever remembered a spanking hurting before.
He’d been able to avoid this certain position for four years. The last time he was over his father’s knee, he had thought he was too old to be spanked. John had shown him that you’re never too old to show respect to your elders, even if you are too young to get drunk enough to pass right out.
The stinging was quickly building up. John never did anything half-assed. This situation wouldn’t be any different, Dean realized with a sharp intake of breath through his teeth as it seemed his father was hitting harder with each smack.
Dean started to pant. He was trying hard not to make a sound, but the pain was becoming intense. He tried to remind himself that he deserved this. They could be burning Bobby’s body right at this moment.
Bobby. Dean’s stomach clenched again as he remembered that Bobby was standing right outside. The man could probably hear everything. Dean’s face flushed, and not just from the spanking.
Dean couldn’t help it. His legs started to move as he tried to get away from the burning in his backside. He started to reach around with his right hand to shield himself, but then thought better of it.
Dean shoved his face down into the bedspread and let out a squawk, hoping the bedspread would muffle the noise. He would not cry over this. He could show his father that he had done some growing up.
The realization that he could’ve gotten all three of them killed tonight was enough to make a choked sob escape his lips. His chest was just getting tighter and tighter, and the smacks just kept coming and coming. Dean suddenly wondered if he could make it out of this without losing control of himself.
He replayed the night in his head once more, only this time the werewolf turned toward Bobby.
The werewolf charged Bobby and quickly overtook the fleeing man. Dean heard the screams as his friend and fellow hunter was mauled. Then he heard the gunshot as his father took the werewolf out, the body making a thud as it hit the ground next to Bobby.
Dean ran to Bobby’s side and went down on his knees beside the man. Dean tore off his jacket, ready to stop what bleeding he could. That’s when he saw his father standing at Bobby’s right side. He was holding his shotgun pointed at Bobby’s head.
All at once he realized that the werewolf had bitten Bobby. Dean looked up at his father’s face. With what looked like tears in his eyes, John shot his friend in the head. Dean shivered at the look on his father’s face. He would never forget that look.
Dean was brought back to reality painfully as his father started in on his thighs. “I’m sorry!” Dean said on a sob.
Dean’s hand flew back to cover what little he could, but John merely grabbed his son’s wrist and pinned it to the boy’s lower back.
Tears burned Dean’s eyes and finally spilled over as his father went back to smacking his backside. “I’m really sorry!” Dean yelled, then let out a strangled sob. “I didn’t mean to get anybody hurt!”
John kept silent. Dean wished his father would say something to make him feel better, but knew it wasn’t going to happen.
“I’m so sorry!” Dean said through a clenched jaw. He felt like he was about to burst. Everything was building up, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He had to get his dad to stop. It was too much. “You’ve got to stop! Dad, please!” Dean begged.
Dean finally broke. The sob overwhelmed him and took his breath away for so long he worried he would never breathe again. When he finally got his breath back, it was to let another long sob out.
Everything hurt so badly. Dean realized it wasn’t just the physical pain that was making him cry, though.
The guilt that had been on his shoulders ever since he came up with the idea was making his chest hurt badly enough that he just sobbed into the bedspread.
“I’m sorry!” Dean nearly screamed as he kicked. “You’ve got to stop! I’m sorry! I didn’t want Bobby to die! I’m sorry I didn’t follow orders! I’m sorry I lied!” Dean yelled, the words nearly indiscernible over the sobs.
Dean tried to wrench his right arm away from his father, but he wasn’t in a good position to do that. Finally John stopped. Dean just sobbed into the bedspread, no longer trying to get away from his father.
Dean felt his father’s left hand start to rub circles on his back. It felt good and reassuring. He gasped and kept on crying when his father pulled his shorts back up. The cloth felt like sandpaper on his skin. He was thankful that his father didn’t pull his jeans up from around his ankles where his boots kept them from getting kicked off completely.
John let Dean cry for a little while longer. “Come here,” John said softly as he grabbed his son just under his arms and pulled him into a sitting position on his lap. John made sure that Dean’s backside was in between his legs, pulled Dean’s upper body against him.
All the fight was gone out of Dean, and he just let his father mold him to his body. “I’m sorry, Dad,” Dean sobbed into his father’s shirt.
“I know you are. It’s all forgiven. I’ve got you,” John reassured Dean as he started rubbing his son’s back with his right hand.
“I didn’t m-mean to get anybody h-hurt,” Dean tried to say without hiccupping but failed.
“Nobody got hurt, Dean,” John told the boy as he carded the fingers of his left hand through Dean’s short hair.
“I’m s-sorry I lied to y-you and Bobby,” Dean said as he squeezed his eyes shut. He knew he was getting his father’s shirt wet, but he just really didn’t care.
“Dean,” John said, trying to get his son’s attention.
“Yeah?” Dean whispered as his bottom lip trembled.
“You’ve been punished for what you did. You need to let it go now,” John explained.
Dean sniffled. “But I almost got Bobby--”
“Dean,” John stated firmly.
“Yeah?” Dean whispered again.
“You’ve been punished. Don’t keep beating yourself up for this. You made a mistake, you paid for it, and now you need to move on. Learn from this and try not to make the same mistake in the future. That’s all you can do, son,” John said as he rested his hand on his son’s arm and rubbed his thumb back and forth over the skin.
Dean let out a whimper as his bottom lip trembled even more. “Are you... Will you...?” Dean kept trying to start.
“What is it, Dean?” John finally asked.
“Are you ever going to trust me again?” Dean said so low that he wondered if John actually heard him.
John let out a big sigh as he squeezed his son in his arms. “I trust you with my life, Dean. You’re a good hunter with great instincts and loyalty. One mistake isn’t going to totally ruin everything. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” John said as he shook Dean gently to emphasize his point.
Dean sniffled again. His throat felt raw, his eyes felt all puffy, but his chest wasn’t tight anymore. He wished the hiccups would go away, but he felt safe and loved in his father’s arms, wanted to stay there forever.
John held Dean until the heavier hiccups were gone and the sniffles had taken over. “I want you to go apologize to Bobby,” John said softly.
Dean’s stomach clenched, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Then he wondered how he could possibly apologize for nearly getting the man killed.
It seemed like John read his mind. “Just tell him you’re sorry, son,” John said as he gave Dean a reassuring pat on the back.
John helped Dean stand up. Dean winced and hissed as he pulled his jeans up over his throbbing backside. Dean started walking toward the door but stopped. The horribly guilty feeling was gone. His chest felt free. He turned around and looked his father in the eye. “Thanks, Dad,” Dean said, trying to keep his lip from trembling.
John’s small smile was enough to give Dean the courage to do what he had to next. He turned and exited the small motel room. He stepped out onto the porch. He was surprised to find Bobby leaning against the porch railing. Bobby turned to Dean and looked the boy in the eye.
Dean took a deep breath. He really wanted this to be sincere. “I-I’m really sorry, Bobby,” Dean said, hoping Bobby wasn’t totally pissed off with him. He hadn’t considered it before, but what if Bobby was mad enough to want to hurt him? He braced himself for what Bobby would do next.
Bobby crossed his arms over his chest. “Everything’s all right, Dean,” Bobby said with a nod and that crooked smile of his.
Dean tried not to look shocked. “You’re not mad?” Dean asked, hoping he didn’t seem scared of the man.
Bobby shook his head no. “Nope. You paid for what you did, and everything is all right,” he told Dean not unkindly.
“Oh, you, uh, kind of heard that?” Dean asked with a wince, sure that his entire upper body was blushing.
“You’re a good kid, Dean. Deep down you knew that what you did tonight was wrong, didn’t you,” Bobby said, and it wasn’t a question.
Dean nodded. “Yes, sir,” he answered anyway. Dean wondered where Bobby was going with this.
“I know you’ve got a good heart in there, boy. Don’t ever let anybody or anything get in the way of that, and you’ll do just fine,” Bobby said with what looked like a genuine smile.
Dean hoped his embarrassment didn’t show through in his smile too much. “Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said happily.
“Now how about we get back inside? It’s a little nippy out here tonight,” Bobby said as he held open the door for Dean.
End.
Pairing: None/Genfic
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG/Young Adult/Non-Explicit
Word Count: 4.5k
Alternate Link: AO3
Full List of Kinks and/or Warnings:
Setting: Preseries
Summary: Dean wanted to show John he was ready to hunt on his own, but he chose the wrong way to do it, and he has to face the consequences after nearly getting Bobby killed. Set shortly before John and Dean part ways while Sam’s at Stanford.
A/N: Another fic that’s been sitting in my folder for a long time. I wrote it in Season 2, right around the time there were a lot of John feels going around and I kept re-watching scenes where John interacted with his boys.
It wasn’t until the shot missed its mark that Dean fully began to panic. He was not the type to lose his cool in any situation, but this wasn’t just any situation.
His heart rate jumped as he watched the werewolf throw its head back and howl out its anger at being shot in the arm. He had only managed to piss it off. Dean’s fingers froze as the werewolf turned toward him and growled.
“Dean, down!” John yelled from his vantage point.
Dean immediately dropped to the ground. A fraction of a second later he heard the gunshot followed closely by the sound of the werewolf falling to the ground just a few yards away from him.
His fingers were still in a death grip around his gun, but he didn’t dare move yet. He waited as he heard John and Bobby cautiously approach the body.
“It’s dead,” Bobby confirmed.
For some reason, the fact that the werewolf was dead did nothing to calm Dean down. He shivered as the last few minutes caught up with him. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath as he waited for his father to start in with the yelling.
“Bobby, take Dean and meet me at the motel,” John said with a voice Dean knew was tightly controlled.
Dean panted into the dirt as he heard his dad walk past him and get into his truck. The pain in his stomach nearly made him vomit right then and there.
“Get in the car, Dean,” Bobby ordered as he headed toward the Impala.
Dean shakily got to first his knees, and then stood up. He looked toward his father’s truck to see the man just sitting in the driver’s seat. Dean winced. This was going to be bad. Dean figured John probably wouldn’t take him on a hunt ever again, let alone allow him to ever hunt on his own.
Dean walked on legs that felt like rubber, and slid into the passenger seat of the Impala. He slinked down in the seat and wrapped his arms around his stomach.
Bobby started the car, and they left John behind. Dean wanted to tell Bobby to wait for his father, but he couldn’t seem to form the words. And what about the body? Shouldn’t they be helping John? His stomach was clenching so badly, he wondered if he would throw up if he tried to speak.
“I’d suggest you use this time to come up with a damn good reason for what you did back there, boy, because you’re daddy’s gonna be asking you soon enough,” Bobby drawled.
Dean watched the highway markers as they flew by. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have disobeyed a direct order like that? He knew better.
They pulled into the parking lot of the motel all too soon for Dean’s liking. Dean looked at the flickering L in the sign for the motel. Any other time he would have smiled at the fact that that sign intermittently advertised a mote.
Bobby turned the car off and got out. Dean watched as Bobby started to walk up to the motel room door. The man stopped and turned. He let out a sigh, then started toward the passenger door.
“You can’t hide in here all night, Dean,” Bobby said, sounding anything but amused as he opened the car door.
Dean wordlessly got out and followed Bobby into the room. Dean stood in the middle of the room with his back to the door. What should he do now?
“You can park yourself right over there in that chair,” Bobby said from so close behind Dean that it made Dean jump.
“Yes, sir,” Dean whispered, unable to keep from responding to the direct order. Dean sat down, keeping his eyes glued to his hands in his lap.
Bobby went into the small bathroom and got himself a glass of water. He then sat down across the table from Dean. Dean thought Bobby might start in on him, but the man merely drank his water, set the empty glass down on the table between them.
Dean felt a brief moment of anger as he reminded himself that he was twenty-three. There were hunters out there younger than him that were flying solo. Then again, those hunters didn’t fuck up as royally as Dean had tonight, either. He had nearly gotten Bobby killed tonight. The thought made him squeeze his eyes shut tight.
It seemed like hours that the two sat in silence. Dean couldn’t help replaying those few minutes in his head over and over again. He should’ve known better. Sticking with the plan would’ve been the smart thing to do.
By the time Dean heard the truck’s engine, he wasn’t sure if he was happy or scared that his dad was finally there. When the motel room door finally opened, Dean didn’t know what he should do. Bobby had told him to sit, so he decided to stay seated.
Dean sat trembling as he watched his father take off his coat and drape it over the nearest bed. Without looking at Dean, the man walked over to the window and looked out at seemingly nothing.
Dean wanted someone to say something. The silence was killing him, but he didn’t want to be the one to break it. Besides that, some smart-ass comment would probably be the first thing out of his mouth, and then he knew he would be dead.
“Bobby,” John said, his deep, gravely voice giving nothing away. “Would you mind stepping outside for a few minutes while I have a chat with my son?”
Dean looked up at Bobby and saw the man nod. “Sure thing, John,” Bobby said as he got out of his seat. He picked up a gun, put it in the back of his pants, and walked out, leaving Dean alone with his father.
John didn’t move from his spot at the window. The whole thing was unnerving Dean terribly. When John was mad, he wasn’t usually the silent type. If you had done something wrong, you heard about it.
Dean knew he had gone over the line this time, but it wasn’t unforgivable, was it? Had he totally ruined his relationship with his father once and for all? Damn, but he felt bad about this one.
“Dean,” John finally started, the noise making Dean flinch, “was there any part of tonight’s plan that you didn’t understand?”
Dean’s mouth suddenly went dry. His throat seemed to close off. “N-no, sir,” Dean finally replied. John moved from the window, and came to stand in front of Dean. It took all of Dean’s willpower to make himself look his dad in the eye, but he did it.
“Then I’d like you to explain to me why you nearly got Bobby killed out there tonight,” John said. There was such an eerie calm to John’s voice that it sent a shiver through Dean.
“I’m sorry,” Dean said, his voice barely making it above a whisper. He felt terrible. The fact that Bobby could’ve died tonight because of him was just about killing him.
“I didn’t ask for an apology. I want you to answer the question,” John said, a slight bit of irritation creeping into his voice.
Dean quickly tried to think of a way to say what had been going through his mind without sounding like the shit that it was. How could he explain his side of things without sounding like a petulant four-year-old?
“Dean,” John barked.
Dean flinched again. “I,” Dean squeaked. He swallowed and tried again. “I thought if I could take it down myself, you’d see that I could hunt on my own,” Dean explained, ending on a whisper. The look on his father’s face nearly made Dean look down at his hands again, but he forced himself to keep looking his dad in the eye.
“So you decided to disobey orders and make your own plans without telling any of your fellow hunters,” John said, making it sound so bad for Dean. “You decided to, instead of back the two of us up, go ahead and shoot it yourself. You purposely went to a different location, and shot the damn thing in the arm, Dean! Bobby was closest! What if the thing had gone for Bobby instead of you? What if I hadn’t been standing right where I was and had the opportunity to shoot it?” John questioned, voice getting louder and louder.
“I’m sorry,” Dean offered again. He knew it sounded lame, but what could he say?
“You know what your behavior tonight says to me?” John asked.
Dean shook his head. “What?”
“It doesn’t tell me you’re ready to hunt on your own, little boy. It tells me you shouldn’t even be out there hunting in the first place!” John bellowed.
The words hurt badly enough that Dean winced. They hurt because he knew they were true. A hunter worth anything wouldn’t have pulled the stunt that he had tonight. Dean looked down at his hands.
John leaned down, putting a hand on the arm rests on either side of Dean. Dean couldn’t help but look up at his father with wide eyes. “If you think I’m just going to stand by while you go off and get yourself and others killed, then you are sadly mistaken,” John said, voice almost a growl.
Dean felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know what to do. He finally exhaled when John stood back up. The man walked over to the bed farthest from the door and sat down on the edge of it.
“Stand up,” John ordered.
Dean stood immediately and turned to his father. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do, so he just stood there, waiting for an order.
“Take off your jacket, and put it on the chair,” John said, clearly another order.
Dean couldn’t help but follow the orders yet again. He nearly dropped the jacket with numb fingers before finally draping it over the back of the chair. “What are you going to...?”
“I’m going to spank you is what I’m going to do,” John said, cutting off his son mid sentence.
The shock that went through Dean’s system actually made him flinch. A tingling was left in its wake. He stood stock still, eyes wide, mouth open as he tried to gauge his father’s mood. Was he actually serious?
“Come over here,” John said as he pointed to the floor in front of him.
Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The thought that maybe John was just trying to scare him popped into his head, but it was quickly chased away by the little voice in his head that said John never gives empty threats. John never fails to follow through on something he said he would do.
Dean nervously fingered the seam on his jeans. If he didn’t know better, he would say that his dad was giving him time to think everything through in his head.
“Dad, I--”
“One,” John said, looking Dean right in the eye.
Dean shivered. If counting meant the same thing as it did when he was little, he could very easily earn himself another spanking before bed. He was still trying to wrap his head around what was happening now, much less even considering getting it again later. “Please don’t--”
“Two,” John said, cutting off his son yet again.
Dean couldn’t take the chance that his father was bluffing. He tried to calm himself as he walked the few steps to his father’s feet. He could do this. So his father wanted to beat the shit out of him for fucking up. He not only could take it, he deserved it.
As soon as Dean stopped in front of him, John reached up and began undoing his son’s jeans. Dean’s hands flew to his father’s before he even thought it through. “Are you going to fight me on this?” John asked, menacing tone on full as he looked up at his son.
Dean immediately backed his hands off and held them out to his sides. “No, sir,” he mumbled.
John didn’t waste any time. As soon as the zipper was down, he slipped his fingers beneath both the jeans and Dean’s shorts and tugged down.
Dean gasped, but he resisted the urge to pull his shirt down to cover himself. He hadn’t expected the shorts to come down to his knees, too. Dean didn’t have long to be embarrassed, though. John grabbed Dean by his left forearm and pulled, sending Dean sprawling across his father’s lap. The way John was sitting--turned a little to the left--allowed Dean’s upper body to be supported by the bed while his legs hung freely in between John’s.
Dean felt his father’s steadying left hand come to rest on his lower back. “We both know what you did wrong tonight, but I’d like to hear it from you. What are you getting this spanking for?” John asked.
Dean felt like scrambling away. This wasn’t really happening, was it? Dean had to force himself to stay where he was. He cringed at John’s words. He hated saying what he had done wrong. It always seemed so much worse when it was said it out loud.
Dean fisted the bedspread with both hands. All he could think of was how much worse this night could have turned out. What would they have done if the thing had gone after Bobby? He deserved anything his father could dish out and much more.
Dean took a quick cleansing breath before he started. “I made up a plan of my own without telling anyone else about it. I directly disobeyed orders. I left my post. I shot at the werewolf, missing my target, nearly getting Bobby killed,” Dean listed, ending on a wince. He knew what was coming next. His whole body tensed in anticipation.
“What else, Dean?” John asked.
The question surprised Dean. What did he mean? He hadn’t done anything else tonight, had he? He quickly reviewed the night in his head, but he didn’t come up with anything. “I-I don’t know, sir,” Dean finally admitted, hoping it wouldn’t piss his father off any more than he already was.
“You put yourself in danger,” John said softly.
“Oh,” Dean said stupidly. His stomach clenched just a bit at the knowledge that his father cared enough to say that. He knew the man loved him, but to hear him say something like that, well, it just made him feel good.
“How long did you have this little plan in that head of yours?” John asked.
Dean felt his father’s right hand come to rest on the back of his left thigh. He felt so vulnerable. Interrogation in this position was just cruel in Dean’s opinion. He really didn’t want to answer the question. “As soon as we put it all together and figured out it was a werewolf,” Dean said, his breath quickening.
“Yesterday morning?” John asked, sounding surprised.
“Yes, sir,” Dean replied, eyes squeezed shut as if he could suddenly disappear.
“So you’ve been lying to me since yesterday morning,” John said, that growl back again.
Dean immediately started shaking his head no. Lying was the worst offense in John’s book. There was no way Dean wanted to be caught lying. “No, sir!” Dean said, his chest feeling tighter.
“Conveniently not telling the whole truth is just as bad, son,” John informed Dean.
Dean let out a soft whimper. This was bad. This was getting worse by the second. “I’m sorry,” Dean tried again. He wished he could be anywhere but right here, right now.
“If you ever even think about pulling shit like you did tonight again, you’re gonna be right back in this position so fast it’ll make your head spin,” John threatened.
Dean was so nervous and trying so hard to think of a way to placate his father that he didn’t notice John’s right hand had left his thigh until he heard a crack and pain blossomed from his backside. Dean winced, trying hard not to make a noise.
It wasn’t until the third smack that Dean realized John wasn’t going to go easy on him. This hurt worse than he ever remembered a spanking hurting before.
He’d been able to avoid this certain position for four years. The last time he was over his father’s knee, he had thought he was too old to be spanked. John had shown him that you’re never too old to show respect to your elders, even if you are too young to get drunk enough to pass right out.
The stinging was quickly building up. John never did anything half-assed. This situation wouldn’t be any different, Dean realized with a sharp intake of breath through his teeth as it seemed his father was hitting harder with each smack.
Dean started to pant. He was trying hard not to make a sound, but the pain was becoming intense. He tried to remind himself that he deserved this. They could be burning Bobby’s body right at this moment.
Bobby. Dean’s stomach clenched again as he remembered that Bobby was standing right outside. The man could probably hear everything. Dean’s face flushed, and not just from the spanking.
Dean couldn’t help it. His legs started to move as he tried to get away from the burning in his backside. He started to reach around with his right hand to shield himself, but then thought better of it.
Dean shoved his face down into the bedspread and let out a squawk, hoping the bedspread would muffle the noise. He would not cry over this. He could show his father that he had done some growing up.
The realization that he could’ve gotten all three of them killed tonight was enough to make a choked sob escape his lips. His chest was just getting tighter and tighter, and the smacks just kept coming and coming. Dean suddenly wondered if he could make it out of this without losing control of himself.
He replayed the night in his head once more, only this time the werewolf turned toward Bobby.
The werewolf charged Bobby and quickly overtook the fleeing man. Dean heard the screams as his friend and fellow hunter was mauled. Then he heard the gunshot as his father took the werewolf out, the body making a thud as it hit the ground next to Bobby.
Dean ran to Bobby’s side and went down on his knees beside the man. Dean tore off his jacket, ready to stop what bleeding he could. That’s when he saw his father standing at Bobby’s right side. He was holding his shotgun pointed at Bobby’s head.
All at once he realized that the werewolf had bitten Bobby. Dean looked up at his father’s face. With what looked like tears in his eyes, John shot his friend in the head. Dean shivered at the look on his father’s face. He would never forget that look.
Dean was brought back to reality painfully as his father started in on his thighs. “I’m sorry!” Dean said on a sob.
Dean’s hand flew back to cover what little he could, but John merely grabbed his son’s wrist and pinned it to the boy’s lower back.
Tears burned Dean’s eyes and finally spilled over as his father went back to smacking his backside. “I’m really sorry!” Dean yelled, then let out a strangled sob. “I didn’t mean to get anybody hurt!”
John kept silent. Dean wished his father would say something to make him feel better, but knew it wasn’t going to happen.
“I’m so sorry!” Dean said through a clenched jaw. He felt like he was about to burst. Everything was building up, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He had to get his dad to stop. It was too much. “You’ve got to stop! Dad, please!” Dean begged.
Dean finally broke. The sob overwhelmed him and took his breath away for so long he worried he would never breathe again. When he finally got his breath back, it was to let another long sob out.
Everything hurt so badly. Dean realized it wasn’t just the physical pain that was making him cry, though.
The guilt that had been on his shoulders ever since he came up with the idea was making his chest hurt badly enough that he just sobbed into the bedspread.
“I’m sorry!” Dean nearly screamed as he kicked. “You’ve got to stop! I’m sorry! I didn’t want Bobby to die! I’m sorry I didn’t follow orders! I’m sorry I lied!” Dean yelled, the words nearly indiscernible over the sobs.
Dean tried to wrench his right arm away from his father, but he wasn’t in a good position to do that. Finally John stopped. Dean just sobbed into the bedspread, no longer trying to get away from his father.
Dean felt his father’s left hand start to rub circles on his back. It felt good and reassuring. He gasped and kept on crying when his father pulled his shorts back up. The cloth felt like sandpaper on his skin. He was thankful that his father didn’t pull his jeans up from around his ankles where his boots kept them from getting kicked off completely.
John let Dean cry for a little while longer. “Come here,” John said softly as he grabbed his son just under his arms and pulled him into a sitting position on his lap. John made sure that Dean’s backside was in between his legs, pulled Dean’s upper body against him.
All the fight was gone out of Dean, and he just let his father mold him to his body. “I’m sorry, Dad,” Dean sobbed into his father’s shirt.
“I know you are. It’s all forgiven. I’ve got you,” John reassured Dean as he started rubbing his son’s back with his right hand.
“I didn’t m-mean to get anybody h-hurt,” Dean tried to say without hiccupping but failed.
“Nobody got hurt, Dean,” John told the boy as he carded the fingers of his left hand through Dean’s short hair.
“I’m s-sorry I lied to y-you and Bobby,” Dean said as he squeezed his eyes shut. He knew he was getting his father’s shirt wet, but he just really didn’t care.
“Dean,” John said, trying to get his son’s attention.
“Yeah?” Dean whispered as his bottom lip trembled.
“You’ve been punished for what you did. You need to let it go now,” John explained.
Dean sniffled. “But I almost got Bobby--”
“Dean,” John stated firmly.
“Yeah?” Dean whispered again.
“You’ve been punished. Don’t keep beating yourself up for this. You made a mistake, you paid for it, and now you need to move on. Learn from this and try not to make the same mistake in the future. That’s all you can do, son,” John said as he rested his hand on his son’s arm and rubbed his thumb back and forth over the skin.
Dean let out a whimper as his bottom lip trembled even more. “Are you... Will you...?” Dean kept trying to start.
“What is it, Dean?” John finally asked.
“Are you ever going to trust me again?” Dean said so low that he wondered if John actually heard him.
John let out a big sigh as he squeezed his son in his arms. “I trust you with my life, Dean. You’re a good hunter with great instincts and loyalty. One mistake isn’t going to totally ruin everything. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” John said as he shook Dean gently to emphasize his point.
Dean sniffled again. His throat felt raw, his eyes felt all puffy, but his chest wasn’t tight anymore. He wished the hiccups would go away, but he felt safe and loved in his father’s arms, wanted to stay there forever.
John held Dean until the heavier hiccups were gone and the sniffles had taken over. “I want you to go apologize to Bobby,” John said softly.
Dean’s stomach clenched, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Then he wondered how he could possibly apologize for nearly getting the man killed.
It seemed like John read his mind. “Just tell him you’re sorry, son,” John said as he gave Dean a reassuring pat on the back.
John helped Dean stand up. Dean winced and hissed as he pulled his jeans up over his throbbing backside. Dean started walking toward the door but stopped. The horribly guilty feeling was gone. His chest felt free. He turned around and looked his father in the eye. “Thanks, Dad,” Dean said, trying to keep his lip from trembling.
John’s small smile was enough to give Dean the courage to do what he had to next. He turned and exited the small motel room. He stepped out onto the porch. He was surprised to find Bobby leaning against the porch railing. Bobby turned to Dean and looked the boy in the eye.
Dean took a deep breath. He really wanted this to be sincere. “I-I’m really sorry, Bobby,” Dean said, hoping Bobby wasn’t totally pissed off with him. He hadn’t considered it before, but what if Bobby was mad enough to want to hurt him? He braced himself for what Bobby would do next.
Bobby crossed his arms over his chest. “Everything’s all right, Dean,” Bobby said with a nod and that crooked smile of his.
Dean tried not to look shocked. “You’re not mad?” Dean asked, hoping he didn’t seem scared of the man.
Bobby shook his head no. “Nope. You paid for what you did, and everything is all right,” he told Dean not unkindly.
“Oh, you, uh, kind of heard that?” Dean asked with a wince, sure that his entire upper body was blushing.
“You’re a good kid, Dean. Deep down you knew that what you did tonight was wrong, didn’t you,” Bobby said, and it wasn’t a question.
Dean nodded. “Yes, sir,” he answered anyway. Dean wondered where Bobby was going with this.
“I know you’ve got a good heart in there, boy. Don’t ever let anybody or anything get in the way of that, and you’ll do just fine,” Bobby said with what looked like a genuine smile.
Dean hoped his embarrassment didn’t show through in his smile too much. “Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said happily.
“Now how about we get back inside? It’s a little nippy out here tonight,” Bobby said as he held open the door for Dean.
End.