Doppelganger:
Title: Doppelganger
Author: Brassband777
Characters: John, Dean (16), Sam (12)
Scenario: Teen!chesters, Discipline Fic
Summary: Dean doesn't follow orders while on a hunt.
Author's Notes/Warnings: Severe parental spanking of a teen.
John Winchester parked the Impala at the end of the dirt track.
"Okay, Dean, brief me on the mission." John always wanted to make sure that his eldest understood the importance of being totally prepared before engaging in any hunt.
"We're hunting a kanubi, sir. They're a kind of creature from ancient times. They are solitary, which means we've only got one to contend with. In appearance, it's fairly humanoid in shape, but stands about seven feet tall. Its skin is greyish and wrinkled and it's hairless. It feeds on human flesh and so has developed extremely long, sharp claws and teeth. You kill it by beheading. It's a serious threat because it can read thoughts…." began the sixteen-year-old.
"You mean it's telepathic," interrupted Sam with a snigger.
"Shut up, Sammy!"
"You're only annoyed 'cause you don't know big words like I do."
Dean silenced his little brother by slapping him across the back of the head.
"Ouch! You jerk! Dad, he hit me!"
"And you were asking for it by taunting your brother." John shook his head at the twelve-year-old before turning back to his eldest. "Go on."
"So, yeah, it's telepathic, but it can also project thoughts into your mind and make you see and hear things that aren't there."
"Good, son. Now why does this make it a threat?"
"Because it might be able to pick up your attack plans, so it can predict your next move and it can make you see things to put you off."
"Well done. Now Dean, it's imperative that we do not split up on this hunt. We stick together. Otherwise the kanubi could appear to you looking like me or it could appear to me looking like you, so you're to stay right by my side the whole time."
"Yes, sir."
John studied the tall, good-looing teen before him for a moment. He was really proud of the hunter that his son was becoming. Dean was obedient to a fault, already excelled at using a wide range of weapons and was field-smart, keeping his head in dangerous situations.
John quickly and efficiently drew a circle of symbols around the Impala in the dirt, before turning to his youngest.
"These symbols will protect you from the kanubi, Sammy. It can't get past them. Now you must stay in the car. Understood? What could happen if you don't stay in the car, Sam?"
"I could get hurt."
John nodded. "That's right. And what could happen to me or Dean if we needed to protect you because you disobeyed orders?" John knew that the idea of being responsible for getting his family hurt would ensure that Sam did follow the given instructions, rather than just threatening him with punishment if he disobeyed.
"You and Dean would be distracted and might make a mistake and could get injured or k-k-killed." Sam stumbled over the last word.
"That's right, Tiger, but if you stay put, we'll be fine." John pulled Sam into a quick hug before picking up the weapons bag and setting off into the woods with Dean at his side.
John easily picked up the kanubi's trail and followed it deep into the woods. Both he and Dean were carrying machetes as well as their usual firearms. The trail came to an end in a small clearing.
"Keep alert, Dean," instructed John, "it's somewhere nearby."
Dean nodded. He surveyed the area carefully, looking for anything out of the ordinary. A moment later, his heart stopped. A hideous grey-skinned humanoid stepped out from behind some close-growing trees holding a struggling Sam.
"Stay back," it hissed, "or I kill the little one."
"Let him go!" seethed Dean.
"I'm s-s-sorry," sobbed Sam, "I was w-worried about y-you and Dad."
Dean took a step forward, thinking that if he launched an attack, it would have to let go of Sam to fend him off.
"Stop, Dean!"
Dean responded automatically to his father's order and halted his forward progress. He looked from Sam to his Dad and back again. His father didn't acknowledge him, he just kept his eyes trained on the kanubi and his youngest struggling in its clutches.
"D-dean, Dad, h-help me!" pleaded Sam.
Dean immediately quickly moved forwards again towards his brother. In spite of his father's orders, he couldn't just abandon Sam!
"I said stand down!" barked John, "that is not your brother!"
Dean hesitated for a moment, studying the tear-streaked face of the child in front of him. It sure looked and sounded like Sam! Part of him recognised that this could possibly be a telepathic projection, but what if it wasn't? Sam had left the car in the past when he wasn't supposed to - he couldn't risk anything happening to Sammy!
Dean knew he'd never be able to save his brother without getting hurt (or worse!) himself. He wouldn't be able to use the machete, because he might accidentally hurt Sam with it. He just needed to hang onto the creature long enough for Sam to get away and hopefully survive its claws and teeth long enough for his Dad to come and lop its head off. He didn't care about his own safety, as long as his baby brother would be alright.
With this I mind, Dean flung his machete down and lunged forward again. He heard his Dad's shouted, "Here, Dean, now!" and deliberately ignored it.
John Winchester cursed and flung into action himself. The teen was going to get himself killed! He was going after the kanubi totally unarmed.
Dean ploughed straight into the creature, planning on knocking it off balance and forcing it to release his brother. The boy found himself falling to the ground with the hissing kanubi. It pulled back one wickedly clawed hand, preparing to strike. Dean closed his eyes, waiting for the blow, just praying that Sam had been able to get clear. The blow didn't come and he opened his eyes, taking in the scene before him in horror. Firstly, his baby brother had literally vanished into thin air and secondly his father was rolling around on the floor wrestling with the kanubi. All Dean could focus on were the wickedly long teeth and claws. He was on his feet in a split second and retrieved his machete, but was unable to use it for fear of hitting his father. He stood at the ready, praying that the opportunity to save his Dad would present itself.
John, grunted in pain as the creature's claws ripped through his side. He knew that engaging in hand to hand combat with it was reckless and irresponsible, but he had been left with the choice of either that or Dean being seriously injured or worse. And in John's mind, that was no choice at all – he would willingly sacrifice his life ten times over for either of his children. He had been unable to use his own machete at such close quarters, although he kept hold of it and so his first intention had been purely to get it off his son. Using brute strength, he managed to get his foot up between them and kicked the kanubi in the chest flinging it backwards off him. John didn't even take the time to stand, he just scrambled forwards on hands and knees and swiftly beheaded the monster, as it was trying to rise.
"Are you hurt, Dean?" John turned immediately to his stricken son, panic swelling through his veins – what if he hadn't been quick enough?
Dean shook his head mutely as his father's eyes raked frantically over his body to assure himself that his son was indeed telling the truth.
"Dad, I'm so so sorry….please, I didn't mean for…"
"Shut it, Dean!"
Now that he was certain that his eldest was unharmed, the overwhelming relief had immediately turned to red hot fury. He had almost lost Dean tonight and that knowledge was crippling him. He had to fight against the urge to put Dean over his knee right there and then and beat his backside black and blue. John had never struck either of his sons in anger and he knew that if he spanked Dean now as angry as he was there was no doubt he would badly bruise the boy. And in John's book, that wasn't acceptable – a spanking was discipline, not abuse and therefore should never leave lasting damage.
"But, Dad, you're hurt…" Dean sounded totally lost, broken. His Dad could've died because of him!
"I'm fine, it's not deep. Now can it Dean! I'll deal with you when we get back to the motel." John turned and began making his way through the trees towards the car, knowing that the errant teen would follow.
Sam watched as his father and brother emerged from the trees. He knew immediately that something was horribly wrong. His Dad had fresh blood on his shirt and Dean, his swaggering, over-confident big brother was trudging behind, hunched over and looking totally cowed. His head was bowed and his gaze fixed firmly on the ground in front of him.
Sam immediately jumped from the car and ran towards his family. "Are you okay? Dad you're hurt! Dean are you hurt?"
Dean didn't look up, he continued staring fixedly at the floor. That, along with the thunderous expression on his father's face made the worried twelve-year-old even more frightened.
John recognised the fearful expression on his youngest's face and took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself before trying to reassure his baby. "It's okay, Sammy, I've only got a scratch, nothing serious. I'll just need to clean it and dress it when we get back to the motel. And Dean's fine, no injuries. We got the kanubi."
Sam tried to be comforted by his father's words, but he could hear the barely controlled anger in his father's voice. What the hell had happened out there?
On reaching the Impala, John simply barked, "In the back, Dean," before throwing the weapons bag he had been carrying into the trunk.
Dean meekly climbed into the backseat and after staring in surprise for a moment. Sam climbed in next to him. Dean being relegated to the back like a naughty child told Sam in no uncertain terms that the anger emanating from his father was directed at his older brother. But why?
The ride back to the motel was silent. Sam didn't want to question his brother in front of their father. Instead, he rested one hand on Dean's thigh in an unspoken gesture of support.
On entering the motel room, John pointed to the far bed. "I want you to park your backside, Dean, while I clean and dress the wound. And do not even think of moving!"
"Yes, sir." Dean sat down as instructed, eyes fixed firmly downwards.
John paused before entering the bathroom. "And I'd relish the ability to sit down if I were you, kiddo, because I guarantee that when I'm through with you, you won't be able to do it for quite some time!"
As the bathroom door closed behind his father, Sam turned worriedly to his big brother.
"Dean?" he questioned hesitantly. "Are you okay? What happened?"
Dean refused to look up, but after a minute of silence he replied in a broken whisper. "I really messed up on the hunt, Sammy."
"But Dad can't punish you for making a mistake!" exclaimed Sam indignantly, knowing full well what fate awaited his brother after his father's parting comment. "That's not fair! Dad always says it's normal to make mistakes and that we should just learn from them."
"I didn't make a mistake, Sammy, I deliberately disobeyed." Dean's gaze remained fixed in his lap.
Sam was sure he couldn't have possibly heard right. Dean deliberately disobeyed? Dean never ever disobeyed orders!
"Sorry, what did you say?"
"Dad ordered me to stand down at least three times and I ignored him."
Sam hesitated, completely stunned and at a total loss of what to say. There was no way to save his brother's ass. Disregarding orders was tantamount to treason in the Winchester household.
On registering Sam's silence, Dean finally looked up, his big brother instincts kicking in despite his own predicament. "You okay, Sammy?"
Sam nodded and finally found his voice. "Why would you do that, Dean?"
"Because I was stupid! I acted like a total amateur! I knew what we were up against and yet I still let it trick me."
Sam leaned in towards his big brother and linked his arm through Dean's. "Tell me from the beginning?" he asked quietly.
Dean leaned back in towards Sam, needing the physical contact that his brother was offering, as he haltingly explained what had happened. As he talked, the teen couldn't prevent some tears from escaping down his cheeks. He had nearly gotten his Dad killed!
John exited the bathroom, taking in the sight of his two sons leaning against each other on the bed. On seeing his father, Dean immediately straightened up and met his father's gaze.
"I'm ready, sir, I know I deserve to be punished."
John contemplated his eldest for a moment – it was evident that Dean had been crying. Now that he had calmed down, it was going to be a lot harder to punish the boy as severely as he knew he needed to. He hated spanking the boys as it was, but having decided to take his belt to Dean, he knew it would kill him inside.
John didn't say anything, he simply unbuckled his belt and slid it through the loops of his jeans before doubling it over in his hand.
Dean realised the implication immediately and paled – his father had never used anything except his hand when spanking him before ever! A moment later, Sam obviously came to the same conclusion, because he felt his baby brother stiffen next to him.
"Sam…." John's voice was quiet, but authoritative, "I need you to wait in the bathroom for a bit while I discipline your brother." John knew that Dean would have filled Sam in on what had happened while he had cleaned and dressed his flesh wound.
"But…." Sam looked at Dean with anxiety. How could their Dad even consider hitting his brother with a belt?
"It's okay, kiddo," soothed Dean, "I'll be alright…and anyway, I deserve it." He gave his brother a gentle push towards the bathroom.
Sam went reluctantly, only consenting, because he knew Dean would be mortified if his baby brother witnessed the spanking. He knew he'd still be able to hear it though and there was nothing he hated more than knowing that his brother was hurting.
John sat down on his own bed, placing the belt down on the cover next to him and beckoned for Dean to come and stand before him.
"What do you have to say in your defence, son?"
"Nothing," replied Dean, swallowing down the nervous lump in his throat and meeting his father's stern gaze steadily, "I take full responsibility."
John quirked an eyebrow at this response. "Really? Because I can think of quite a lot that you could say in defence of your actions. How about you wanted to save your little brother's life for starters?"
Dean was confused. His father wasn't berating him as he had expected. As he deserved! "Errr….well….sir….yeah, I did, but….."
John decided to rescue his son from his floundering. "What I'm trying to get at Dean, is that your intentions were good, commendable even. You have no idea how grateful I am for the protection and care you give Sammy. I don't think I say it often enough, but I'm really proud of you, Dean. You've taken on more responsibility than anyone your age should ever have to….Errr, you're catching flies, Dean."
Dean snapped his open-hanging mouth shut. He was in shock – instead of being yelled at, he was being praised! And Dean thrived on praise from his father.
"But, Dad, I disobeyed a direct order….more than once…." Dean's eyes travelled nervously to the belt lying on top of the bedspread.
John sighed. "Yes you did. And that's not acceptable under any circumstances. You can be sure I never give any orders without a darn good reason. All orders I give have one aim, to keep you and your brother safe! I wanted you to know that I understand why you did it though. But I need you to understand why it's necessary that I punish you and why I've decided to use my belt….because trust me, that's not a decision I've made lightly."
"I know why, Dad." John didn't miss the catch in Dean's voice. "I could've gotten you killed!"
John was taken aback – that hadn't even entered his head! No wonder Dean had seemed so broken back in the woods.
"Actually Dean, I was thinking more along the lines that you could have gotten you killed! And I couldn't bear to lose either you or Sam! So while disobeying orders is gonna get you a helluva spanking at any time, I've decided that deliberately risking your life is also gonna get you a round with my belt. Now come here."
Dean knew the drill, he didn't wait for his father to tell him. He unzipped his jeans and let them fall to his ankles before placing himself resignedly over his father's lap.
John automatically fixed Dean in place against his stomach with his left arm, even though it was unnecessary – Dean would never fight a punishment like Sam did. He then raised his hand and started spanking the boxer-clad buttocks hard and fast.
Dean had expected his Dad to use the belt straight away and was relieved when he realised he was just using his hand. That relief was short-lived however, as John continued to spank steadily and the burning sensation in Dean's rear gradually intensified. He gritted his teeth and concentrated on remaining in position.
After spanking solidly for a few minutes, during which time, Dean had not made a single sound, John reached for the waistband of the teen's boxers and unceremoniously yanked them down to his knees. Dean's backside was already a rosy pink all over. He set about turning it fire-engine red. This time, he also included the previously milky-white upper thighs in his assault.
Dean could immediately tell the difference when the spanks started landing on his bare bottom – not only from the increased volume, but also from the sharp, biting magnified sting. The teen bit the inside of his cheek and doubled his efforts at staying in position. He was beginning to feel the uncomfortable prickling sensation behind his eyes, but blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. He was sixteen-years-old for goodness sake! Much too old to cry, because of a little spanking!
John was listening carefully to his son's breathing patterns, waiting for the slight hitch that would indicate that his eldest was crying. He shook his head at how stoic the boy insisted on being. He knew it was time to up the ante. John began by applying a volley of swats all on top of each other directly to Dean's sensitive sit-spots. That actually got an involuntary squirm out of the boy before he was able to get himself back under control. John then continued spanking alternating areas, but applying three swats on top of each other each time before moving on.
Dean was no longer able to keep completely still, despite his best efforts. The burning sting caused by three swats to the same area was just too much and his legs began kicking slightly involuntarily. He also lost his battle with the tears, which began traversing their way freely down his face.
John was aware that his son had finally cracked, but administered another dozen swats before stopping, needing to drive the lesson home. He stopped spanking and used his hand to run soothingly up and down the teen's back. The boy's shoulders were shaking slightly with silent, supressed sobs.
"You're okay, Dean. One part's over….you're doing real good." He wanted the boy to calm down a little before continuing the spanking.
Dean had totally forgotten about the belt threat due to the pain and humiliation he had just experienced. His father's words forcibly reminded him however and he finally found his voice.
"P-please, Dad….no m-more." His rear already felt like an inferno and he could only imagine what the belt would feel like on top of his already scorched skin.
"Sorry, son. We've dealt with the not following orders issue, but we still need to address the risking your life one. It'll be okay, Dean, trust me."
John paused, physically having to force himself to pick up the belt. He looked at the thick leather in his hands – his own father had belted him growing up and he knew that wielded with care, it would leave no lasting damage, but he also remembered the excruciating level of pain that it administered…..a pain that he was now preparing to inflict on his first-born. It was only remembering the fear that he had felt when he had been convinced that Dean was going to be killed by the kanubi, that gave him the strength and determination to continue with the punishment.
"Okay, Dean, you're sixteen years old, so you're going to get sixteen licks of the belt. It'll soon be over."
Dean nodded, tears still flowing freely and braced himself, but nothing prepared him for the intensity of the pain that blossomed across his backside. An anguished cry was torn from his lips and his body bucked violently of its own accord. His father quickly laid down the second stripe, just below the first. Again, Dean cried out, unable to prevent himself and for the first time ever when spanking Dean since he had become a teenager, John found himself having to actively hold on to the teen to keep him in position.
By spank number seven with the belt, Dean was sobbing uncontrollably. Each stroke felt like someone was slicing into his skin with a red-hot knife and he knew he couldn't possibly bear any more.
"P-please, D-daddy…..stop…..it h-hurts…..I c-can't take any m-more….Daddy p-please…."
John had tears running down his own face. Dean never begged and that, along with his extreme physical reactions (John had had to pin Dean's legs down with his own) told him exactly how much this was hurting his baby boy and it killed him that he was the one causing the pain. But better this than his beloved first-born lying dead! He hardened his heart to Dean's cries and pleas and continued bringing the belt down rhythmically. This was made all the harder due to Dean's unconscious regression to the term 'daddy' which he hadn't used since he was nine and which simply melted John's heart.
"You're doing great, buddy, nearly finished."
"No p-please,…..I'm s-sorry D-daddy…I-I won't e-ever d-d-disobey orders again….." Dean was sobbing so hysterically that he could hardly talk.
John administered the last two strokes and threw the belt as far away from him as he could.
"It's over, Dean. All done." He began immediately rubbing soothing circles on the teen's back.
Dean now lay totally limp across his father's knees, his whole body wracked with the force of his sobs. The unbearable burn in his backside and upper thighs was unimaginable! He was aware of his father's gentle hand and comforting voice and he latched desperately onto these while fighting desperately to regain control.
John continued to talk soothingly to his son and slowly, the boy's breathing became less ragged. He looked down at the crimson buttocks and thighs which were criss-crossed with stripes from the belt – there was no way the boy would be sitting comfortably for a few days, but he was confident that no lasting damage had been done. As gently as possible, he slid the teen's underwear back up over the abused rump. Dean hissed in response and gave another involuntary sob. John then lifted the teen into a sitting position and cradled him in his lap, careful to keep the boy's thoroughly spanked bottom from touching anything. Dean instinctively wrapped his arms around his Dad's neck and continued to cry quietly into his chest. It took another twenty minutes for Dean's crying to subside to mere sniffles. John was content to hold and comfort the boy for as long as he needed.
"You okay, Ace? You know that I love you more than anything right?"
Dean ran the back of his hand across his eyes to remove the last of the tears. "Yeah, I know, Dad. I love you too. And I'm really really sorry."
"I know you are, Ace. It's all forgiven and forgotten remember? Now we'd better call your brother or he'll think I've murdered you." John dropped a tender kiss on Dean's head before helping the teenager off his lap. "Sam, you can come out now."
Sam fled the bathroom immediately and ran straight to his big brother who was standing in the middle of the room in only his boxers and t-shirt, having kicked his jeans off from around his ankles. The twelve-year-old instantly flung his arms around the sixteen-year-old's waist, hugging tightly. The teen hugged back just as tightly.
Dean noticed the tear tracks on Sam's face immediately and was quick to reassure. "You don't need to be upset, Sammy. I'm okay, honestly."
Sam looked up at his big brother disbelievingly. He had heard the way that Dean had cried out when he'd been spanked with the belt and Dean never cried out during a punishment. Unable to bear hearing his brother in such pain, he had begun to cry himself. Sam leaned away from Dean and turned to glare at their Dad. How could he hurt Dean like that?
John had been expecting that reaction from his youngest and gazed steadily back. He didn't expect what happened next however, although he should have, knowing how perceptive Sam was.
"You've been crying, Dad." Sam was taken aback. Why had their father been crying?
At his little brother's words, Dean turned and scrutinised his father's face – sure enough, his eyes were red-rimmed. And now that he thought about it, immediately after the spanking when his father had been comforting him, his voice had sounded a little shaky.
"Are you okay, Dad?" asked Dean in concern.
"Yeah kiddo, I'm fine," smiled John, "I couldn't bear seeing you hurting like that is all and it kinda got to me."
Sam was puzzled – his Dad never cried unless he was remembering their mother, so spanking Dean with the belt must have really made him sad. "Dad, if it upset you so much, why did you do it?"
"Because I love you and Dean more than anything in the whole wide world, Tiger. And if protecting you and helping you grow up properly means I need to dish out harsh discipline from time to time then I will do it, because nothing is more important to me than you two!"
John strode across the room and enveloped both his sons in a bone-crushing hug.