Spoiler Alert! This takes place during S1E20!

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!

It was right after the vampire attack and they were exhausted. Their dad had shown up and was fighting on their side. It was a shock at first but Dean was ecstatic. In his mind he was replaying all of the times when he was young and they were a solid team. Tonight was a complete success. Dean and Sam had taken care of the vampire back at the hideout and with both of their minds made up, had come to the rescue of their father. It was a moment full of complete terror and shortly after, hysteric joy. For once, THEY had saved HIM! But they kept it quiet and to themselves. As they were packing up in the hotel room they knew their dad would have something to say about their actions. As much as they knew it was the right thing to do, they couldn't help but have this nagging sinking feeling in the pits of their stomachs. It just wasn't something you did, go against the instructions of their father. But it was done and there was no turning back now.

"So, uh, Dean..."

"Yeah, what?" Dean answered rather sharply, stuffing the rest of his clothes in his bag.

Sam scowled. "I was just thinking he might be angry with us. Actually I'm positive he's going to be angry. But really there's no reason to be! We saved him, right? Right Dean?"

Dean paused and sighed then glanced up at Sam, "Hell yeah we did, Sammy. Don't worry, he'll realize it I'm sure. He's leaving anyway, it's not like he could do any worse then that." With hurt clearly evident in his voice, Dean dropped his bag to the floor and began tossing any other belongings he found in the same general direction.

Sam knew exactly how he felt. It took them months to find their father and now he was leaving them. It was like he didn't trust them to be strong enough and smart enough to fight this demon beside him. It killed him, killed them both, to know that despite their dedication and obvious ability to handle themselves, he was still going to leave. And now he was probably going to put on a show of yelling and arguing over his own selfish ideals and how he was right and they both were always wrong.

But when that front door swung open and he entered the room, the anger boiling inside Sam was put on the back burner and he immediately came to attention with nothing but nervousness in his eyes. Dean did the same exact thing, coming to stand beside Sam and trying his best to keep his demeanor looking somewhat like a man and not a little boy who knew he had broken a rule. When their dad came to stand in front of the two, his eyes like ice and his expression grim, they both swallowed silently and awaited the scolding they knew was coming.

"So boys, you both ignored a direct order back there." It left no room for argument.

"Yes sir." Sam and Dean simultaneously answered.

But as John opened his mouth to start his barrage on his two boys, Dean piped in with all of his rage, pain, and dignity escaping from his throat.

"But we saved your ass." He half growled, never taking his eyes off of his father's.

Sam could do nothing but gape at him. Holy shit, did he really just say that? The angry comments were something that Sam usually took care of when it came to confronting their dad. Dean was always the mediator and the one to obey almost every command. He was in shock and awe. That feeling quickly turning to putty inside him as he glanced at his father, worried for Dean more then he had been all night.

John kept his oldest son's gaze for a long moment. "You're right."

Dean blinked a few times in surprise. "I am?" He said tentatively.

John nodded and Sam nearly collapsed with relief. "You two are all I have, and I just get scared sometimes. I feel like I could lose you at any moment. These things we fight, they are unforgiving and almost always extremely dangerous. But you both have taught me something tonight."

Sam couldn't believe it. Not only were they not getting yelled at but he was learning things from them! It was almost too much to handle. A small smile spread across his face as he listened to his father, a wise man he always seemed to doubt.

Dean stoically celebrated inside his mind. Hearing these words was incredible. He felt like all he really wanted was to sit and talk about his respect and love for this man he called his father. But of course he wouldn't let anyone know that, especially Sam. I mean Sam already knew there was a soft center inside him and he really didn't need to be giving him anymore proof.

"You taught me that we are stronger as a family. I want us to go fight this demon together. There was no way it would have had a chance with me, but its completely impossible for chance to even be a word in it's vocabulary when it turns to face us. We'll finish this as we started it, as a team."

With a smile on Sam's face and a smile in Dean's heart they both solidly answered, "Yes sir!"

"But first, we need to take care of something." John raised his eyebrows slightly and pointedly looked both of his boys in the eyes. "Tonight you saved me, I'm not denying that, but we can't have this trust issue follow us throughout this journey. It ends here."

Sam was the first to have an outburst. "What do you mean, 'trust issue'? You mean that part where you thought it was ok to leave us behind but then luckily we had more brains then that and came to your rescue? It's not a trust issue dad, it was a decision that we made because we had to."

Dean glanced at Sam and then back at his father, running his fingers through his hair. Here we go.

"I have seen and been through far more then both of you have or ever will. I know exactly what I'm doing and the plans I make are not in an effort to keep you two from the fighting or even to keep you two safe. I make them because they work. And..."

Sam erupted. "BECAUSE THEY WORK! Obviously this one wouldn't have! If we would have stayed behind and been good little soldiers you would be dead right now! Do you UNDERSTAND that? Dead! There's no coming back from that dad, no matter how good your plan was."

"Sammy stop, come on man. Just..." Dean attempted to stop the fight, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder which was quickly shrugged off.

John's tone took on a sharp deadly air. He was done with this conversation and Dean was the first to know it. He grabbed Sam's jacket and yanked him hard, a warning to listen.

"We are not going to fight about this. Lay your pride down for two seconds and listen to me son. I am not saying what you did was wrong. Thank god you did it! What I am saying is that when we depart and we are in many more deadly situations I need you to trust me. I need you to hear my words and know that I KNOW what I'm doing. Even if you feel you know better, you don't. If a situation comes up and we have to alter setup then we'll deal with that when it gets here. But this goes beyond tonight, Sam, it goes beyond any time we've been together. You don't know how to trust me. But I'll show you how tonight. And when it's all over I need to hear those words from you."

The compassion in his voice, in his eyes, stole the anger from Sam. He nodded at his father and took a deep breath. He didn't know what he meant by what he was going to "show" him but he knew he was going to deal with it. For the sake of them all, he would deal with it.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment in thanks. They were not at each others throats and the screaming was over with. Mission accomplished now it was time to head out. Dean turned to grab his bags but was stopped by a word.

"Don't."

He peered back over at his father and silently came back to attention. It wasn't over yet.

John glanced at both of his boys one more time, connecting with them on a silently personal level. He strengthened his resolve and then quietly undid his belt and slid it from the belt loops. He doubled it up in his hands and looked up at Dean. "You're first son."

Dean nearly choked on his own shock. First for what? There was no way, no possible way what he had churning in his mind was about to come true.

"Uh, first for what?" He looked over at Sam who was equally petrified with confusion.

"First for the whippin you both need, what do you mean first for what? Jesus Dean, get it together son."

Dean stared with his mouth hanging open, his features trapped in surprise, and then he started to laugh. "Oh that's rich, I thought you were serious for a second. Us, spanked, like kids? Hilarious dad, really. You should put that in an act. Have you ever thought about stand up?"

His grin started to fade slightly as his father's expression didn't change.

Sam had his hand pressed to his forehead in confusion until he saw the resolve in his dad's eyes. He was really going to do it. And he wasn't taking no for an answer. For some reason he couldn't muster that anger he usually felt when he was outraged. There was just no fire there. Even imagining getting the belt, like he had only a few times as a child, was quite frankly terrifying.

Dean was done laughing and had started to back away slowly. He didn't really care if it was practical to run or not but he was going to try. With the tough guy he was, there was no way he would be able to take a spanking. At least not if he had any power to stop it at all. He would fight to the end and his dad be damned for even...

His thoughts were cut off immediately. "That's an order, Dean."

Those words always got him. He couldn't resist the pull of their imagined strength. He couldn't remember the first time his father used the phrase, but it was impossible to resist. Maybe it was because he felt more like a soldier then a boy but he always heeded the order. And he wouldn't stop now.

Dean slowly approached his father, not daring to glance back at Sam in case he lost all of his nerve. He couldn't help but think how silly he looked, like a little boy about to be spanked by his stern unyielding father. This was unfair. Oh god even that sounded so childish! Damnit!

John wasted no time, knowing it was an act of congress to get Dean even this far. He grabbed him firmly by the bicep and guided him to a small table that they had used for laying out their research. It was empty now and waist height. John twisted Dean's arm behind his back and forced him to make contact with the table. Knowing he would resist with all of his being, the force behind his actions were just enough to push Dean into position and then an elbow jabbed into his back left him held fast against the surface of the table.

"You can't do this!" Sam called from the other side of the room, quite pitifully actually. John held up a finger, bidding Sam to be patient, also letting him know that he expected there to be no more outbursts. Sam got the message and wrung his hands, eying his brother nervously.

When John had his son in position he took the time to impart a few words to make sure Dean knew he wasn't being beaten for the wrong reasons. "Son you know why we're here." It was a statement as much as a question.

Dean hesitated, more embarrassed and stripped of dignity then he had been in a long time. How could he recover from this? But he tried to stay focused and understand the message that was being taught to him.

"Yes sir."

"Tell me."

Really, we are going to talk about this, now! Dean groaned. "Because we need to understand that you know what you're doing and if we are going to follow you on this hunt then we have to obey your orders."

"Wrong."

Dean winced and tensed slightly, figuring his dad would start in on him simply because he answered incorrectly.

"You two are not following anyone. We are working together. None are bellow the others. But because I am your father I need that respect that two sons would give the one who raised them and the one who has lived to see far more then them. I want your trust Dean, not your blind loyalty."

Dean nodded as best he could being held against a table. His face flushed red as he thought about what Sam was witnessing. My god what would Sam think? He would think he was weak and nothing to be looked up to after this. How could he protect him anymore?

John knew exactly what Dean was thinking and stopped him. "You know that kid will always look up to you Dean. After you take your punishment he will see you as something even greater. It is honorable to face the consequences of your actions and you will only gain respect from it. Now quit pitying yourself and face this."

At that he started in.

The first lash was surreal. It didn't really hurt at first but Dean wasn't stupid. He knew eventually he would feel it and at that moment he was hoping all the pride and stubborn resolve inside him would kick in and he wouldn't make a fool of himself. But he had a sneaking suspicion that his father would give it all he had and more, when you were in trouble with John Winchester so help him if you weren't going to know it.

After the second lash reality came crashing down. Dean shut his eyes tightly and jerked his captured arm instinctively. With no pull there, he clawed at the edge of the table and tried to pull himself across the surface. He was in a vice grip and there was no getting away. John was strong, a bit stronger then Dean, but with him in such a vulnerable state, John had the upper hand. The strokes came at a steady pace now, given with efficiency and obvious practice. Dean tried his best to keep himself still, if only for the audience he knew was watching. From across the room Sam starting pacing lightly, glancing up at Dean in intervals, but mostly keeping his eyes shut and his head down.

It was so painful! It just didn't seem right. After all the things he'd fought and the wounds he'd received it was infuriating to know that a spanking could hurt him. It nagged at him in every way. His ass was killing him, his mind was scolding him, and his heart was disappointed in him. Of course he trusted his dad, and he always would. Maybe there was some doubt there...and maybe that's why he was up against this god forsaken table.

John decided that it was time to slow down and begin the last lecture. These would be the hardest strokes, but he knew Dean could and would take it.

"Dean." *SMACK*

He hissed at the pain, sucking in air and trying to control his breathing. He could tell that the mood had changed and this was the most important part. It was nauseating to think how much more he could take of this, mentally and physically.

"I need you to give some of yourself away." *SMACK*

He let out a small moan, his trapped hand subconsciously clenching.

"I want you to open up and trust me and Sam." *SMACK*

"Aahhh!" Dean finally let it escape. Sam stopped pacing and stared at Dean, locking his jaw.

"Because if you don't, you'll die someday Dean." *SMACK*

Dean went limp across the table, breathing hard and listening even harder.

"Or even..." John paused and looked up into space for a second, Sam catching the gesture and

wondering what he could be thinking about.

"...you could get Sam killed." He brought the belt down several more times in quick succession, putting more power and feeling into these last ones, and this time Dean put his face in his arm, letting an incredibly discreet sob escape his throat. His father was right, he had to be more careful. He had to at least trust the ones he loved or he'd be blind to their danger. It wouldn't happen again, ever. They were all he had and he would keep them both safe.

John let out a long sigh and stepped to the side of the table. He put his hand on Dean's shoulder, squeezing slightly. He was proud he took the spanking so obediently and knew his message had gotten across. Even if Sam, eying his father more nervously now from the other side of the room, hadn't seen the break through. It was exactly what he had hoped for. He helped Dean to his feet and guided him back to his stuff, allowing him a task so his mind would stop its weaving. Dean accepted the hint gratefully and went to work, never looking Sam's way.

John still held the belt, taking Sam's arm just above the elbow. He brought him over to stand in front of the table. Sam was in a bit of a stupor, witnessing things he only remembered when he was a child but also rarely saw, usually locking himself in his bedroom or going outside. It was just something he tried to stay out of, especially since dad was so hard on Dean. He always had been. But when he looked towards his father and saw him tilt his head towards the table with one of those meaningful "if you don't do it I'll do it for you" looks, he took a step backward.

"Dad, we can talk about this..."

"There's nothing to talk about Sammy. Over here, now."

Grim finality.

"But I'm not a kid anymore. You don't have a right..." He started to escalate, his brow set and his veins starting to peek. He began to bring back the anger but what his father said next stole all of the fire he had saved up.

"Do you want Dean to take the punishment all by himself? If you honestly believe you could live with yourself by just walking away from this then be my guest son." And at that, John stepped to the side and beckoned for Sam to leave freely.

Immediately Sam was in position, his hands gripping the top of the desk and his face pressed against the wood.

John nodded and grinned slightly, moving to stand beside his younger son, putting a hand on his back to hold him in place. Relieving will power was the greatest gift he could give them and he wasn't going to take that away.

"You understand why you're here, right son?"

"Yes sir." He answered, fully committed now.

"Then we'll get on with it." And without another word John had brought the belt down with a loud CRACK! He knew he didn't have to lecture Sam this time seeing as he overheard all the talking Dean and him did earlier and there was just some sort of emotional bond between the two. Even though they were at each other's throats most of the time he seemed to really know Sam, inside and out. And he knew he was ready to take a beating and EXACTLY the reason why he was taking it.

The whipping was harsh and it was so hard to take but he knew it was nothing compared to what Dean had been through. Since Dean was older and had been on hunts with the old man for longer, their dad had entrusted him with the safety of Sam. So when it came down to doing anything that could compromise that safety, he was unforgiving. But that sure didn't mean he couldn't have a heavy hand with his youngest boy. Sam was definitely feeling it.

At 3 strokes he was angling his body to the left and right, trying to outrun the pain.

At 8 strokes he was gritting his teeth so hard it made his mouth hurt. Small groans were starting to escape his throat.

At 12 he was gasping for breath and pleading quietly. Trying his best to cover his ass with his hands, which were conveniently trapped in the small of his back, not moments later.

And finally at 16 he had followed suit with his brother and lay limp against the table. He hadn't been pushed to cry but he also hadn't felt the mental anguish his brother had felt that evening. That was really the only thing that did make Dean shed a tear, his conscience.

John wove his belt back through the loops and let Sam recuperate. It took a second but after a few moments of heavy breathing and some concentration to gather himself, Sam was back on his feet. He couldn't look his father in the eye, instead he stood there awkwardly for a second and then glanced at Dean, who was sitting quite uncomfortably on the bed and staring at the ground.

"Let me hear it Sammy." When Sam looked back at his father he had that small smile on his face. That one that meant everything was back to the way it should be. It was also the one that meant he was proud of his boys. And that was such a relief to the two fully chastised sons of his. Dean had looked over at John when he heard his voice, catching the smile as well. Even though the pain was keeping a steady throbbing in his ass and causing his face to hold a constant wince as he sat on the bed, he couldn't help but give the scene one of his secret grins. And it was even better knowing that they would be a family for at least a little while longer.

Sam knew the cue. "I trust you Dad...and I promise I'll never stop."

John hooked an arm around his son and followed him over to Dean, confident now that there would be no stopping them.

Back on the road, Dean followed their dad's truck closely. The Impala hummed like a dream as it carried the boys down the road. 'Sweet Child of Mine' played in the background as both Sam and Dean shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Neither had started any conversation but the feeling in the air wasn't of ill will. They both just...had never talked about a punishment before. Sam was the first to start conversation.

"Dean...you're ok, right?"

He stared straight ahead with that agitated cocky look on his face, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and pressing his other palm to the seat cushion, trying to levitate slightly. "Yeah Sam, why wouldn't I be?" He winced as soon as he said it.

"Well I mean, Dad is always harder on you then he is on me and my ass feels like it's on fire."

Dean rolled his eyes and glanced out the side window. He licked his lips and looked back at his brother. "You're tellin me! That asshole sure has one hell of a right arm. God I don't know when I'm gonna be able to unclench my teeth whenever I sit down." And off handily, "Bastard."

Sam grinned and turned to watch the truck glide down the road in front of them. "Yeah, and that bastard is gonna be on our hunts from now on. You know Dean, I think I'll take a beating like that anytime as long as he stays around."

Dean choked on his next breath, emotions almost pouring from him at those words coming from Sam. It was gonna be a good night. And it would continue to be as long as he could help it.

"I know how you feel, kid."