Spoiler Alert! This takes place during S3E05!

I do not own any of the characters in this story.

This is a story that contains spanking! Please turn back now if you feel you might be offended!

Sam set the colt down on the passenger seat cushion as he sped down the road in the Impala. He couldn't stop reliving what she had said over and over in his head, "You can't save him." There had to be some way out, something he could do. But there wasn't, or that's what she wanted him to believe. But it didn't matter what she thought anymore, she was dead. He had shot her. And he wasn't sorry.

Sam slammed the steering wheel with his palm, so angry that he was so helpless in the situation. He couldn't bare the thought of being a bystander in the death of his brother. And Dean wasn't just going to die, no, he was going to be drug to hell, to the 'Pit' as they all called it, and he was going to suffer eternally in a way Sam's mind couldn't even begin to grasp. The silence of the road was only making him think more, so he slammed his fist into the radio and let 'Hotel California' play as loud as he could stand for the rest of the ride back to the motel.

He eased the Impala back into the parking spot, slowly and as quietly as the motor would let him. He had shut the lights off even before he had pulled in but he still felt as if a spotlight was announcing his return. There was one thing that couldn't happen tonight and that was Dean being awake. If he was faced with explaining his actions and then getting into a yelling fight he wasn't sure if he could hold back. Sam was so full of mixed angry emotions and they were surging his mind, trying to coax him to let them out. He slid his key soundlessly into the lock and swung the door inward without so much as a creak. He shut it just as gently and turned to glance over at Dean's bed. His eyes weren't adjusted though, and the moonlight wouldn't help him until he had stood there for a second. So he felt around and found the edge of his own bed, taking forever to sit down, trying his best to keep the rusty springs from complaining too much. Sam was taking his shoes off when Dean's keys slipped from his jacket pocket and hit the floor. The sound was louder then anything Sam had ever heard, with his heightened senses at the moment, and he was horrified. He stared down at the fallen keys and then slowly looked up, his eyesight better now, to find Dean sitting casually in a chair.

"I give it to ya, the stealth was good. Not so much with the keys, but I'm sure it was all a part of the plan, right Sammy?" Dean shifted in his seat only slightly, enough to cross his arms over his chest.

Damnit. So it would have to be done the hard way. "What are you doing up, Dean? And what plan? I just went out to get something to eat at the gas station, no big deal." Sam immediately faked nonchalance and pulled his other shoe off, slipping off his jacket as well and tossing it onto his bag in the corner.

"Really? Cuz I bet you a million bucks that if I go out to the car and check the passenger seat, the colt will be sitting there, waiting for a demon to take it because my kid brother has no BRAINS when it comes to keeping his cool AND lying at the same time. Nerves get to ya Sammy?" Dean got up and turned the lamp on then scooped the keys up off the floor, winked at his brother, and went out to the car. He left the door cracked so Sam could hear his "Aha!" as he found the colt. All Sam could do was run his hands through his hair in disbelief. He should have known. Dean and him were like twins when it came to knowing what the other was thinking. It was a bitter sweet gift.

Dean came strutting back into the motel and held the gun up for Sam to see, raising his eyebrows with that 'I told you so' look. He chuckled to himself and set the colt down on his bedside table. He shook his head and turned back to Sam.

"Oh Sammy Sammy Sammy, I told you I was good. Pretty awesome huh?" He grinned and then sat back down in the chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his fingers laced, his mood changing drastically. "Where were you?"

Sam was sitting in the exact same position but with a completely different feeling to it. He had his head in his hands, staring at the floor.

"I asked you a question Sammy." Dean's tone was familiar, hard and demanding. It reminded him of someone...

"I...it was nothing Dean. Just don't ask, ok?" He raised his head, pleading that his brother not push it. He'd been through enough tonight.

"Oh there's no way you're getting out of this one. I need an answer and I'm not stopping until I hear it. I really already have an idea, a pretty damn good one, but I need to hear it from you." Dean just stared at his brother, his brow furrowed, waiting.

Sam sighed, keeping himself in check, for now. "Dean I did exactly what needed to be done, ok? We needed to know if there was a chance...and you wouldn't listen. Well actually, you were right not to let me go."

Dean raised his eyebrows slightly as his brother paused, letting him know he wanted him to go on.

"You knew that if I went with you, I might die. The contract would be breached because by allowing me to try and find a way to save you, you would be enabling me to find you a way out. But I went by myself, without your knowledge. So it would have worked..." He trailed off.

"Would have, Sam?" Dean was just taunting him and Sam knew it. It hit a nerve.

"Ok it didn't work! You happy? I just felt like...I can't just sit by! I can't just watch them take you away from me! From everything! I didn't know anyone could take dad, and they did! I wont let them take you too Dean!" He was standing at this point, pacing slightly and wringing his hands at his brother, trying to make him understand.

Dean was swept up in the emotion as well. "I know how you feel Sam! I don't want to go either but I made the deal out of my own free will and I'd make it again! Sam...I need for you to live. If that means I have to sacrifice myself to those bitches then I will!" He was standing as well at this point.

Sam couldn't hold the hurt back anymore. It was killing him. He charged Dean, grabbing him by his leather jacket and slamming him up against the wall. "You don't know how I feel Dean! You have NO IDEA! Yeah, it would hurt losing somebody but it's a whole other thing to lose somebody to hell." His voice took on a low growl and he slammed Dean up against the wall again, making him wince. "It's not fair for me to be the one that lives..." He let up on the tension a bit, glancing down to the side and whispering, "...you are more important then me, dad knew it too."

It took Dean a second to really realize what Sam had just said. He was really trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, to understand that the kid had been through a hell of a lot tonight. And probably worse then he even knew. The answer he got from the demon must have been the same one that they had been chewing on for months now, there was no hope of saving him. But Sam had no right to start this battle. The one where he lost his will to fight, his will to live on. Dean couldn't leave this life knowing his brother wouldn't care to survive. He was done with this.

Sam was still holding onto him, but lightly. He was staring off into space, lost in his own thoughts of self pity. Dean slowly brought his hands up to grasp Sam's wrists and pull them off his jacket. He then put his palm on Sam's chest and slowly pushed him to arms length. He was staring at the floor when he started to talk. His shoulders were low and his whole demeanor was so tense it was painful for Sam to witness. He had never seen his brother so angry, no that wasn't the word for it, downright furious.

"I've had enough of this Sammy. We are done with your whining and pitying. I'm going where I'm going and it's DONE. I need you to be strong for me so I don't suffer even more. You think you can do that for me pal?" His fists had balled up and his voice was a ticking time bomb. Sam was lost in the their trance.

"Yeah, sure Dean." He was starting to worry.

Dean glanced up at him, into his eyes to make sure he really meant it, and then he was all action. He shoved himself off the wall and grabbed Sam by the bicep, moving with such force that all Sam could do was try to keep up, stumbling his way after his brother. Dean went for the low standing coffee table and propped his foot up on top of it. He studied his stance for a second, making sure he was planted firmly into position, and then unceremoniously dragged Sam over his thigh. He wasted no time in securing Sam's hands behind his back so he could keep him off balance while he unbuckled his belt with his other hand. The struggle was proving difficult when Sam finally realized what was happening. But Dean was in such a rage it almost didn't matter. His adrenaline was pumping and all of his anger came from one place, his brother's dumbass comments. Dean wrapped the belt around his fist multiple times, leaving only 6 inches loose. He brought his hand up to his face and tugged on the end with his teeth, making it secure. Somewhere in the background Sam was protesting about many things, he was sure, probably his right to spank him, how childish this was, how Dean wasn't thinking and maybe he should just let him up to talk, but he really wasn't listening. This time Dean would be the one teaching the lesson and he was damn sure this conversation was FINALLY going to be over.

"I really think we can talk about this Dean, I mean isn't it silly? I feel silly, I'm sure you do too. So lets-HEY!" Dean let the first lash fall. He loosed a private grin and landed another, waiting for Sam to shut up so he could continue. And he did, with all the force he could muster.

*SMACK* *SMACK* "I need you to understand something Sammy *SMACK* *SMACK*I am your older brother *SMACK* *SMACK* and whatever I feel I need to do to get your ass in line *SMACK* *SMACK* I am entitled to do *SMACK* *SMACK* and not because I feel I'm better then you *SMACK* *SMACK* or smarter then your *SMACK* *SMACK* but because you need your ass beat every once in a while to start thinking again *SMACK* *SMACK* and understanding that you mean something in this god *SMACK* forsaken *SMACK* world!" *SMACK*

Sam could barely breathe, his brother was being harder on him then his father ever was! It was so painful, and so fast, and so passionate. Dean had let up for a second and Sam couldn't help but start to struggle. He tried to get his arms back, jerking from side to side and groaning with the effort. It didn't help. Not one bit. His brother had him in a vice like grip and he wasn't letting up, not yet.

"Oh no you don't Sammy *SMACK* *SMACK* we're not done yet *SMACK* *SMACK* I need you to let this thing go *SMACK* *SMACK* I feel the same way you do about me going to hell *SMACK* *SMACK* and I'm not faulting you for trying to find me a way out *SMACK* *SMACK* but I need you to be safe *SMACK* *SMACK* because the whole reason I'm in this situation *SMACK* *SMACK* is to keep your ass alive!"

Sam was bucking with all his might now, squirming and wiggling and contorting and growling his heart out. It wasn't stopping Dean and really only got him harder swats, he reasoned. His mind slowly started to clear the fog that was keeping his defiance alive and he started to plead for Dean to stop.

"Dean please...please don't start again. I got it. I understand and I'll be more respectful of the life you've given back to me. Please don't do this..." Sam waited, his eyes squeezed shut, his breathing labored.

"Sounds like you took that right out of a heartfelt movie Sammy, rehearsed and recited just beautifully." He started the whipping again, but this time silently, he rained down blows relentlessly and with purpose, causing Sam to cry out repeatedly and renew his efforts at escape. After a minute or two of constant struggle to keep his brother in position he swatted him hard on the thighs and then bent close to his face.

"Stop. Struggling. Now." Sam caught his heart in his throat at the harsh whisper and hung his head dejectedly, letting a small sob escape his throat. Dean straightened back up and continued his barrage, but with less force this time. After a moment of silent sobbing Sam noticed his hands were no longer being held and so he laced his fingers so he could help himself resist the urge to fight his brother. He was crying openly now and hating the explosive pain in his backside but he wanted Dean to believe him, needed Dean to believe him. He would help his brother live out the rest of his life instead of leaving him alone to struggle while he was caught up in his own fears of losing him. Sam would be strong for him, while he was alive and after he was dead.

Dean delivered three more solid swats and then stopped. He watched his brother as he lay there, defeated, and trying to control his sobs. He gently helped him to his feet and then unwound the belt from his land, letting it drop to his bag on the floor. Sam sniffed and wiped his eyes repeatedly, forcing himself to calm down. His breathing was still ragged but he was gaining back some control. After a few seconds he realized Dean had said his name. He looked up.

"You on the same wave length with me here, Sammy? I don't need to help you see what you need to understand again, do I?" Sam could tell Dean didn't have it in him to hurt him anymore but he also knew that Dean didn't doubt Sam had fully gotten the message. He shook his head at the question and sighed deeply, looking back down at the floor.

"Eyes up here, kiddo." Sam swallowed and lifted his eyes back to his brother's.

"I'm scared Sammy. I am. Terrified of hell. I'm scared Sam, alright?" His brother nodded, shocked that Dean finally said it. He cleared his throat.

"Thanks Dean."

"For what?"

"Helping me to get back to reality."

"Oh...you mean by beating your ass?"

Dean smiled, Sam winced and turned just a shade redder then he was before. He looked away.

"Yeah...jerk."

Dean smiled even wider, grabbing Sam's bag and shoving it at him. "Well let's get back on the road then. Gotta screw as many chicks as I can before my only choices are the ugly screaming demon on the left or the nasty screaming demon on the right." Sam glared at Dean's completely tasteless shot at humor but he couldn't help feeling a little better that his brother was still in there for the count. The only thing that really bothered him was wondering how in god's name he would survive the car ride.