Hold Your Horses

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight

Warning: This story contains non-consensual spanking

A/N: Hey All! I know I should be posting Week of Tears, but I'm working out some bugs, and while doing that this little story hit me. Enjoy! This takes place during Carlisle's human years when he's 12 years old.

NOTE: I feel like a total retard, but I referred to a stallion as a she when it's supposed to be a he. Out of pure laziness (sincerest apologies) I am leaving the story as is. Thank you to those who caught this error

Carlisle's POV:

"She's gorgeous," I remarked, watching the stallion pawing the ground and loudly snorting.

"I know, right?" James agreed.

"And your father is selling her?!" I asked incredulously, looking over at my best friend.

"You heard him," James replied, "She's too wild. Can't be broken in, he says."

I watched the agitated horse as she bumped her large body against both sides of her miniscule stall. Her black coat glinted in the sunlight and I frowned when her eyes landed on me. There was a frenzied look in them, and I stretched out a hand towards her muzzle.

"She bites, y'know," James warned me, but I ignored him, stretching my arm out more until it connected with her soft fur.

"You're a pretty girl, aren't you," I murmured as she nuzzled my hand. I patted her muzzle before running my hand through her mane. Her frenzied movements ceased momentarily and her loud breaths quieted for a moment as we stared into each other's eyes.

"She wants out," I said.

"She's dangerous, Carlisle," James stated with a light laugh, "and you're a bleeding heart. Come on, if we're going to ride horses we should go before it gets dark."

"I want to ride her," I told him.

"Hahaha! Carlisle, don't be ridiculous!" James responded, giving me a slight shove.

"I'm being serious!" I crowed, giving him a shove back.

"You heard my dad, though," he responded, "she's apparently so dangerous he doesn't want us anywhere near her."

"Does she seem dangerous to you?" I questioned, smiling as the horse ate the apple I'd offered her.

"Not really," he mumbled, and I grinned at him as I stated, "Help me get her ready. I can break her in."

"What? Are you for real?" my friend questioned in shock, and I gave him a cocky grin. "Of course I can!"

James bit his lip, looking unsure as his eyes darted towards the direction of his house.

"Come on!" I yelled, "Help me out!" James started back me, and I noticed when his hesitation quickly turned to excitement as he rushed to assist me. Together, we both got her bridled, and with some difficulty we managed to get a saddle on her. She fidgeted a lot as we put it on, but that was only natural as she hadn't been broken in yet.

Excitement was building in me as I began to mount her.

"You sure about this?" James questioned with a bit of uncertainty. "She seems really tense and fidgety. I've never ridden a horse like that."
"I've broken in horses before, James, don't worry about it," I told him confidently.

"There's also the fact that if my dad catches us, he'll be pissed," he added, and that tidbit did feel me with uneasiness.

"We're doing him a favor," I assured him. "Once I break her in, he won't be forced to sell her."

"That's true," he agreed, his hesitance disappearing once more with a wide grin. "Alright, Carlisle, you ready?"

I settled myself, grabbing hold of the reins tightly. I took in a deep breath, steadying my sudden nerves. I could do this. Arthur would be so happy that I'd helped break in his horse.

"Open the gate," I told James, and he swung it open. For a handful of seconds nothing happened, and I frowned lightly before kicking my heels into the horse's flank. Suddenly, it was like a fire was lit and the mare bolted out of its stall.

"Woah!" I yelled, pulling on the reins to get her to slow down. She neighed loudly, throwing her head up and down multiple times in an attempt to get me to release my hold on the reins. I didn't give in, and it became sort of a tug of war match between the horse and I over who would gain the upper hand. She trotted around agitatedly as I steered her right and then left. Exhilaration flowed through me as I thought I was doing it. I gave a whoop of delight, throwing my right hand into the air. That's when it all went wrong.

My whoop of delight turned into a shout of sudden shock as the horse began to violently buck up and down.

"Okay, okay now girl, it's alright—woah!" I yelled, my heart beginning to pound in fright as her movements became even more frenzied. She was neighing loudly, huffing and puffing as she did all she could to buck me off.

I could hear James yelling loudly, but I didn't dare even look towards him as I struggled to stay on the stallion. She gave another strong jerk, and I finally lost a grip on the reins.

"Ow!" I shouted, as they were ripped from me, and I was suddenly filled with fear as she began to jump back and forth. I quickly wrapped my arms around her neck, but her movements became too much for me. She reared up onto her hind legs and I screamed as I fell back onto the hard ground. I groaned in pain, but had no time to even think because the horse's legs were suddenly coming down towards me.

"Carlisle!" I heard James shout in fright, and I rolled away at the last second, the horse's hooves barely missing me. I quickly pulled myself up, but didn't even have time to regain my balance before the horse ran into me and knocked me to my feet. I let out another groan of pain and braced myself for the horse's hooves to hit me when I heard a loud bang.

Bang!

There was a thud, a strangled neigh from the horse, and then a louder thud as she hit the floor. I uncurled myself and looked at the fallen horse next to me. There was blood coming from her head, and I knew she was dead. She'd been shot.

"Carlisle! Carlisle!" I heard James shout as he rushed to me, a frantic look in his eyes. Arthur, his father followed right on his heels, an unreadable look in his eyes.

I quickly pulled myself to my feet, dread filling me at the fact that I'd just gotten his horse killed because I'd disobeyed him. James reached me first, wrapping his arms around me as he expressed how glad he was I was alright. I stood frozen, blood pounding in my ears as Arthur reached me. I didn't understand the look in his eyes, so when his hands reached out towards me, I couldn't help but take a step back.

"I'm so sorry, sir, what I did was completely foolish and irresponsible," I rushed to say as respectfully as I could. "I shouldn't have disobeyed you. I was arrogant and that got your horse killed. I swear I will find a way to pay for it, but please…" I trailed off, wanting to plead with him to not tell my father, but also feeling I'd deserved whatever I had coming. The thought of being punished first by Arthur and then my father made me sick to my stomach.

Arthur retracted his outstretched hands as I began to speak, and that look in his eyes that I couldn't define increased. When I trailed off to keep myself from begging for some sort of mercy he reached out again, and I stood still, knowing that running away or even flinching would result in worse punishment. I braced myself as his hand wrapped itself around the back of my head. I braced myself as he pulled me towards himself, placing my head on his chest before his arms wrapped around me.

I was frozen out of shock now, my arms hanging limply at my side as he caressed the back of my head.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, really have no idea to react. What was he doing? Why was he doing it?

Huh. It felt warm and kind of nice. I found myself relaxing into his arms, but the hug ended before I really wanted it to.

He pulled away, both hands on my shoulders, looked me up and down once more before asking, "Are you alright?" There was concern in his words, and I finally realized what the look in his eyes was. It was concern. Concern for me?

"I'm fine, sir," I responded promptly, and James chose that moment to speak up.

"Carlisle, your hands," he pointed out, and I looked down at them, surprised to see them bleeding profusely. Arthur grabbed hold of them and frowned as he inspected them. The look of concern increased once more and the man sighed as he released my injured hands.

"Let's get you to Amelia so she can take care of those hands," he said before bringing up a hand to my face. His hands were gentle as he then took my chin and turned my face to the side. I tensed once more, wondering what he was going to do, but all he did was let out a sigh as he wiped away something on the side of my head. I winced, at the sudden pain, and let out a sigh of my own when I saw his hand had a bit of blood on it.

"Come on you two," he stated when he released my chin, and we both trailed behind him towards his home. As we walked James came close to me and bumped into me slightly. I looked towards him and saw concern in his eyes. I gave him a grin as I bumped back into him. I mouthed to him that I was alright and the concern lessened as he smiled back at me.

We arrived to his home and Amelia greeted us with a confused expression that quickly turned to concern as she took in my appearance.

"Carlisle Cullen," she exclaimed as she hurried towards me, "what in heavens have you done to yourself?"

"I'll explain as you get him patched up, love," Arthur remarked before pointing out my injuries. Amelia quickly hustled me to their kitchen where she sat me down.

"James, go and get a bucket of water please," she ordered him as she grabbed some herbs from a shelf. She placed different kinds of herbs into a small bowl and began to crush them with a small rock. It was at this point that Arthur explained to his wife what I'd done, and I looked down at my lap, afraid of what her reaction would be. Thankfully, James rushed in at this moment with the bucket of water and Amelia thanked him as she put a rag into the water. She gently grabbed a hold of one hand at a time and wiped away the dirt and blood before then putting the crushed herbs on the cuts.

"I know it hurts, sweetie," she spoke softly as she glanced up at my face.

"Hmm," I murmured, my eyes transfixed in her bright blue ones. They were full of concern and other emotions I couldn't identify, but somehow I knew they were good ones. My father never looked at me with eyes like this, but perhaps that was because he was a father. Fathers didn't look at their sons like that. Maybe this was only how mothers looked at their sons. Perhaps my mother would've looked at me like this if I hadn't killed her. That thought caused a sudden lump to form in my throat, guilt stirring in me. I quickly averted my eyes from Amelia's, keeping them transfixed on the floor as she finished tending to my hands. Because of this I missed the concerned glances the small family exchanged with each other. I only looked back when Amelia's soft hands went to the wound on the side of my head.

"Oh good," she told me in relief, "it's just a small cut and it seems to have already stopped bleeding."

"Are you in any pain?" she then asked and I immediately shook my head negatively. She looked at me with knowing eyes, but I still said nothing. This mild pain was nothing, and a man wasn't to make a fuss of a minor wound like this.

Amelia's eyes were soft as she smiled at me, but then they began to narrow.

"Young man, what were you thinking riding that horse?" she questioned, her voice suddenly stern. "Did Arthur not tell you how dangerous she was?"

I shifted in my seat guiltily wanting to look away, but knowing eye contact was a must. To look away was a sign of disrespect.

"I am deeply sorry, ma'am," I apologized sincerely. "My actions were foolish and I promise I will find a way to pay for the damage I have caused."

She frowned, her eyes suddenly sad and I had to look away at that point. I looked over at Arthur to see him sporting a similar expression.

"Please don't be upset," I nearly begged, "I promise to make things better. I-I'll work around your farm whenever you need me to. I'll do anything, but please, please forgive me." I couldn't stand it if they would suddenly hate me and not want me around. I felt safe here.

"Oh, sweetheart," Amelia said, pulling me up and into her arms. I froze, feeling more lost and confused than when Arthur had hugged me. "You don't need to make up for anything, and of course you owe us nothing."

I pulled away, looking from her to Arthur in bewilderment. "B-but I"—I stammered lamely before Arthur interrupted me.

"Why do you think we're upset, Carlisle?" he asked, and I looked to James wondering what I was supposed to say. He was giving me an encouraging look, though, which I didn't understand.

"B-because I disobeyed you and got your horse killed," I responded, and Amelia shook her head at me as she cupped my face with her hands. They were so soft and gentle, I noted, and I couldn't help but lean into her touch.

"We are upset that you disobeyed, but we are more upset that you could have injured yourself even more or even gotten killed," she informed me, and I blinked, completely caught off guard by her admission. I hadn't been expecting that. I hadn't been expecting that at all.

"I don't understand," I confessed, giving them confused looks. "Why would you care if something happened to me? I'm not your son."

"Idiot!" James exclaimed in exasperation. "It doesn't matter if you're their son or not. They care about you! Isn't that obvious?"

They care about me? "But why?" I asked them in continued confusion.

"Why?!" James burst out, but he fell silent when Arthur held up a hand as he shushed him.

"Why not?" Arthur questioned simply. "We just do, plain and simple. You're a wonderful, caring young man. You've been James's best friend since you two were old enough to walk. Amelia and I have watched you grow up, and we both care very much for you. You're family."

I was completely stunned at their words, and I had no idea how to respond. The lump in my throat grew larger, and my eyes were beginning to burn with unshed tears. I refused to let them fall though, so I quickly rubbed my face.

"I-I care about you too," I quietly admitted, my face heating up in embarrassment. I was afraid they were lying to me, or that they wouldn't like what I'd said. I was afraid they would ridicule me for the emotions I was displaying, but they didn't. Their eyes just filled with those unreadable emotions that made me feel warm inside as Amelia once more pulled me in for a hug. I just stood there, feeling rather awkward as I didn't know how I was supposed to respond.

When she broke away from me, I was floored to see she was crying. She wiped away at her eyes and patted my cheek softly. "I'm glad you're alright," she told me, and I heard the sincerity in her voice. I just nodded my head before looking down in embarrassment.

"I believe it's time we had a discussion, Carlisle," Arthur suddenly remarked, placing a hand on my shoulder. "How about we head out to the barn?" My muscles suddenly grew taught as I knew what a trip to the barn meant. Punishment. I suddenly felt sick, but I knew what was expected of me in this kind of experience so I just straightened and nodded my head dutifully. "Yes sir," I said, my voice clear and strong.

"James, stay here son because you and I will be having our own discussion afterwards, do you understand?" Arthur called out before we stepped out of the house, and I watched my friend's face pale as he gave his father a single nod. His pallor did nothing for improving my outlook. I'd never been punished by Arthur before. He'd scolded me, but I'd never seen him like this. I'd never seen him or Amelia so worried or disappointed in me. They'd never admitted to caring about me before.

My mind was buzzing with a multitude of scenarios of how this would play out. What instrument would he choose? How would he do this? I really hoped it wouldn't be too bad because I was sure to get another hiding when my father heard what I'd done. I couldn't help but shiver, fear flooding my senses. I wanted to start weeping and begging for mercy, but I'd had years of practice at holding back such weakness. I was a man now, my father said, and I was to take my punishment like a man. Men didn't show weakness. They didn't cry or beg for mercy.

"Sit down," Arthur said, motioning at a bale of hay. I gave him a perplexed look before stiffly making my way to the bale of hay and sitting myself down. Arthur set down a wooden stool in front of me and sat himself down. He stared at me, and I forced myself to stare back. After several tense seconds he gave me a sad smile.

"You look scared to death, son," he remarked. "Please relax, this isn't going to be as bad as you're expecting."

Did he just call me son?

I swallowed nervously before quietly responding, "Somehow I doubt that, sir. I know I deserve to be punished harshly for my actions, and I fully accept any punishment you deem fitting. I promise I'll take it like a man."

Arthur just looked at me, his head cocked slightly to the left. It looked as though he were studying me, and his eyes once again turned sad.

"Oh Samuel," he murmured sadly, more to himself than me, "what have you done?" He looked down at his hands, shaking his head before looking back at me. I didn't understand his words or emotions so I took the safe route and just remained silent.

"How's your head?" he suddenly asked, reaching his hand out to touch the side of my head. "I'm sorry, I should've asked this before. We can wait for this discussion until you're feeling better."

"I'm fine," I replied automatically, "I can take my punishment now." I wasn't sure why he was offering to postpone my punishment. I was touched by his apparent concern, but what if this was just a test? What if I agreed to postpone and he got angry? My head did hurt. In fact, it was pounding and I really wanted to just go to sleep, but there was no way I was going to admit that.

"Are you sure, Carlisle?" Arthur pressed, giving me a look of doubt. "It's okay to admit pain. I won't get mad."

"I'm fine," I repeated more firmly, becoming upset at his prodding. Did he think I was really that weak as to complain over a bump on the head? I didn't need to be coddled!

His lips pressed together tightly and he gave a nod before saying, "Very well, tell me about today. Why did you get on a horse I warned you was unsafe?"

"I thought I could break it in," I admitted right away. "She didn't look dangerous to me and I thought if I could break her in I would be…um, well, I thought I could help you." I felt my face heat up and I had to look away as I then said, "I thought it'd make you happy."

"Carlisle," he sighed in disappointment, "look at me."

My heart ached at the disappointment I heard, but I immediately flashed my eyes to his blue ones. I noticed they were a much darker shade than his wife's.

"You did this because you wanted to make me happy?" he asked quietly, and I bit my lip before nodding my head. "Yes, sir."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, studying my expression to probably see how truthful I was being. I maintained eye contact and sat absolutely still. When he found whatever he was looking for he just frowned before he then asked, "I appreciate you wanting to help, son, but that wasn't the way to go about doing so. In fact, the results were the exact opposite of what you were going for as both Amelia and I are disappointed in your actions rather than happy."

The lump was back in my throat, and I hastily cleared my throat before saying, "I'm sorry, sir." My heart hurt at what he'd said, and I was so angry with myself for what I'd done. How could I have been so stupid?

"What exactly are you sorry for?" he asked, and I promptly told him, "I'm sorry for disobeying you, and I'm sorry my disobedience got your horse killed."

"Are you not sorry for endangering your own life?" he prodded with a raised eyebrow, and I shifted uncomfortably, not sure what my response should be. Recalling our earlier talk in the kitchen I then responded, "Yes, sir, I'm sorry for endangering my life too."

Those eyes of his continued to study me, and my palms began to sweat as my anxiety began to increase. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. I couldn't anticipate what was going to happen. What did he want from me? What was I supposed to do?

"Sir, please, tell me what to do," I begged. "Tell me what to do or say so that I may begin to earn your forgiveness." I was eager to please him and fix whatever damaged I may have caused to our relationship. He told me he cared about me, and I didn't want my own stupidity to have ended that. "I'll do anything, sir, if you'd just please forgive me!"

I immediately slapped a hand over my mouth, shocked by my actions. I shouldn't have begged. I shouldn't have raised my voice. I knew better than this! This would only make things worse.

"I'm sorry!" I burst out, staring wide eyed at the man as his right hand reached out towards me. I couldn't help the slight flinch I gave as his hand landed on my head. Instead of pain, though, I just felt warmth at his touch. He ran his hand through my hair a couple times, a very soothing motion before he began to speak.

"Relax Carlisle, relax," he softly instructed me. "I am not angry with you, and I know you are sorry." His eyes were kind as he looked at me and brought his hand back towards himself. "What I was hoping to get at earlier was that you were sorry for endangering your life. Amelia and I already confessed that your recklessness was what bothered us the most out of your actions today. Yes, we do not appreciate being disobeyed, but we like even less having you endanger your life, especially for such a ridiculous reason."

I frowned, feeling confused, guilty, and touched by his words. My father would not have reacted this way. My father would've been furious at my disobedience and furious that I'd gotten a horse killed. He would never have said anything about me having put myself in danger. My mind was racing once more, and I big my bottom lip as my anxiety began to build. I stopped my train of thought at this moment because I didn't want to analyze the reasons behind my father's actions anymore. He punished me because he loved me. He didn't need to say it, but I knew. I knew!

I heard a snap of fingers, and my distressed, wandering eyes immediately focused back on Arthur's. "Focus on the present," he scolded mildly, and I straightened up as I gave him an apology. Focus Carlisle, Focus!

"I apologize," I told him immediately, my cheeks feeling warm at being rebuked for not paying attention. If I'd done this with Father…Well, I didn't want to contemplate that. "I'm just," I began to say before pausing momentarily to find the right words. "I'm just not understanding why you're more upset over me endangering my life rather than how I disobeyed your rule, which ended up in a dead horse. That stallion could have gotten you a good amount of money." I avidly watched Arthur's expression, becoming flustered when he looked at me with those perpetual sad eyes. Why? Why did he continue to look at me like that? My curiosity ate at me, so I decided to muster up some courage and just ask. I was hopeful he wouldn't get angry with me.

"Why do you continue to look at me with sad eyes?" I asked curiously. "I wasn't hurt."

Arthur raised a disbelieving eyebrow as his eyes flicked first to my hands and then the side of my head.

"It's nothing," I remarked with a shrug of my shoulders. Yes, my head was pounding furiously and my hands stung sharply, but this pain was mild. I was a man, and a man didn't complain about injuries.

"Carlisle," Arthur replied softly with a once more unreadable look in his eyes, "your life is more important to me than a horse or money. Your life is precious and something to be cherished. You should not endanger yourself so needlessly. If anything were to happen to you, I, Amelia, James, and your father would be heartbroken, especially if it were overs something as trivial as allowing childish arrogance to take hold of you."

I stayed silent, truthfully having little idea of how to respond to that. I felt warmth spread through my body, an annoying lump forming in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I looked away momentarily to hide the emotions while at the same time clearing my throat. Not knowing what to say or how to react I decided to ask another probing questions. The expression that periodically crossed his face was driving me mad. I wanted to know what it meant.

"Why do you look at me like that?" I blurted out, and his brow furrowed as he asked back, "What do you mean? How do I look at you?"

"The expression you were wearing when you were talking to me just a moment ago, and earlier when we first sat down, and then again when you ran to me after I fell off the horse," I explained. "Amelia looked at me like that earlier as well when she was tending to my hands."

Arthur's head cocked to the side momentarily before understanding hit him. "Oh," he said simply, and this time it was him who looked away. He looked down at his hands as a sigh escaped his lips. When he looked back at me, he had that expression on his face again. "You truly don't understand my feelings for you, do you?"

I shifted uncomfortably as I said, "You care about me."

"Do you know what I mean when I say that?" he pressed, and I opened and then closed my mouth. I didn't know what to say.

Arthur seemed to understand. "When you care about someone you wish nothing but the best for them," he informed me. "You don't want to see them harmed. If they are hurting or in pain, you too experience the same emotion; and the same is true if they are happy." He smiled widely now as he gazed at me straight in the eyes. "This is how my family feels about you, child. This is how I feel about you. The expression that you ask about is simply love."

Love? "You love me?" I gasped out in shock. "But we're not even related!"

"Blood isn't everything," he scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "You are family, do not doubt that, Carlisle."

I gripped my breeches tightly, my heart hammering away as I grappled with what he'd told me. He loved me. He loved me. Why? How? How could he love someone as sinful as me? I was trouble. My father said it all the time. Perhaps he didn't know or realize this yet. I had to tell him. I wasn't worth it.

Shaking my head negatively, I forced my mouth open and began to argue. "This isn't right, Arthur. You shouldn't love me. I'm not worth it. I'm nothing but a burden and trouble. I do nothing right. I don't listen and I can't follow simple instructions. I'm careless and stupid. I-I-I'm a failure and a disappointment. I'm bad. Don't waste your love on someone like me."

I closely monitored Arthur's expression as I spoke, and I noted as his emotions changed from dismay to shock to sadness and finally to anger and disappointment. There were expressions I was all too familiar with. There were the expressions I'd been waiting for. My heart hurt terribly at seeing this man look at me like that, but it was better this way. I wasn't worth loving. I just brought disappointment to people. My father had told me that thousands of times, and he was right.

Arthur's jaw seemed to clench as his eyes closed. He took in several deep breaths before finally letting out a harsh sigh. His muscles looked tense when he opened his eyes to look at me. There was still anger and disappointment, but the sadness and love were also back which totally floored me. How could he still look at me like that?

"Were those words yours, Carlisle, or your father's?" he asked softly, and I could tell he was holding back his emotions. I bit my lip as I pondered how to respond.

"They're mine," I answered him, and he just raised disbelieving eyebrows at me. "Is that the truth? Please don't disrespect me by lying."

"Well, my father says it," I admitted, "but he's right. I am not worth"—

"Do not finish that sentence, Carlisle Cullen," he ordered sharply, and my mouth snapped shut, my back straightening at the harshness in his tone.

"You are nothing like what you just described," he spoke earnestly. "You are definitely worth loving and don't ever let anyone tell you differently. You are a caring, intelligent young man, and you could never be bad."

"But I am bad! Look what I did today," I attempted to argue, but he just held up a hand to keep me from speaking.

"You are nothing of the sort, no matter what you've done. What happened today does not make you a bad person," he countered strongly. "You are still a boy and you only made a mistake. It does not make you a failure or disappointment. I am disappointed in your actions, but not in you. Carlisle, you were simply naughty like any child."

Naughty? I frowned at the childish reference.

"I am no child," I protested. "My father tells me I am a man and-and…" I trailed off as I noticed that tears seemed to be welling up in his eyes. I was stunned by such a display of emotion.

"Believe me when I say," he finally spoke, his voice full of emotion, "that your father isn't always right. He may mean well, but he is just a man, and even men are prone to mistakes."

I was completely thrown off keel by this entire conversation, and my mind was swirling with so many thoughts. Arthur seemed to contradict everything my father had been telling me my entire life, and I wasn't sure I could believe him. He just didn't know me well enough. He was a very kind man, but…but he just couldn't be right. My father wouldn't have lied to me all these years. He loved me…right?

I ran a hand through my hair before pinching my nose. My head was truly hurting now, and I just wanted to go to sleep. This was just too much for me right now; however, we still had my punishment to take care of. Deciding to throw caution to the wind I outright asked, "What's my punishment going to be?"

Arthur looked at me for a few seconds before smiling grimly and nodding his head. "Very well," was his response, "I see you are anxious to put this behind us, and I am in agreement. This discussion could be had a different time."

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach now as my palms started to sweat, which only caused my wounds to sting terribly. How was this going to be done?

Seemingly reading my mind, Arthur's next words were, "Let me tell you how this will be done. I'm not quite sure how your father punishes you, but with me your actions have deemed you a spanking. What this means, is that momentarily you will be dropping your breeches and laying yourself over my lap where I will spank you with only my hand. Do you understand?"

My eyes were wide at his words, and I couldn't help the way my cheeks turned red. A spanking over his lap? Like a small child? I hadn't been put over my father's lap since I was a very young child. This man couldn't be serious! Was he looking to humiliate me? If I'd been with my father I would never have dared arguing, but I somehow knew Arthur would not react like my father; and then there was the fact that I was already in pain and growing frustrated.

"You can't be serious, sir," I protested. "I am not a child!"

"I beg to differ," Arthur countered sternly, "You are very much a child, and you will receive this punishment. Now, do you understand what has landed you in this position?"

I was flustered, wanting to argue more, but having a feeling that it would be futile. "Yes, sir I do understand, but I still feel"—

He cut me off for the umpteenth time as he then requested I tell him the reasons.

I felt a flash of anger, but self-preservation convinced me to just answer the man.

"Yes, sir, I understand that I'm being punished for disobeying your order to stay away from the stallion, which resulted in you having to kill the horse," I answered, and he motioned his hand that he was waiting for me. "And for endangering my life," I added, unsure if that was what he was looking for.

He nodded his head seemingly satisfied with my answer as he stood up.

"Let's get this over with then," he declared as he now motioned for me to stand up. I did, moving to the side to allow him to sit himself down. He now looked at me and motioned for me to come closer.

I hesitated, conflicted between obedience and rebelling. "This is childish and humiliating," I told him, unable to keep from glaring.

"Your actions were childish, and it is meant to be humiliating," he responded simply, again motioning for me to come closer.

"I-I don't…Can't you punish me another way?" I asked somewhat desperately. "I am a man and I can handle more. Please don't treat me like this."

Arthur frowned, his expression turning concerned rather than angry. "Carlisle," he said, "receiving this spanking will not make you any less of a man than you already are. In fact, this punishment is meant to help you grow."

I was the one to frown this time, and I truthfully didn't quite understand why I was so distressed. This whole process was just too much for me. It was so different from how Father punished me. Arthur was so different. He seemed disappointed but not angry. He scolded me but also made me feel cared for. He didn't make sense to me. One thing was for sure though, I definitely understood why James never seemed to fear his father's punishments like I did mine.

"Come on, son," Arthur urged, holding his hand out to me, "let's get this over with, okay? It won't be as bad as you're imagining, and once it's over all is forgiven."

All is forgiven? What did he mean by that?

My heart was pounding along with my head now, and I couldn't help but let out a sound of distress. To hell with it, I thought before walking to Arthur. I just wanted this over with. I wanted the pain in my heart to end. I wanted the guilt gone.

Arthur gave me a smile when I reached his side, and my mind was boggled. Why in the world was he smiling at me?

"Lower the breeches," he then ordered softly, and I promptly did as told. He then motioned for me to lie over his lap, and I did so after only a moment's hesitation. This was so embarrassing.

Arthur wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close, which allowed my upper torso to lie on the bale of hay. I felt so vulnerable and exposed that I couldn't help but begin to tremble in fear at what would happen next. I was so keyed up that I jumped when his hand landed on my back. He was gentle though, and he began to rub my back. It was soothing, and the longer he did it the more I began to relax.

"Carlisle Cullen, you are now going to be punished for disobedience and endangerment of your life," Arthur declared, and he stopped rubbing my back. "Are you ready?"

Am I ready? Seriously? I nearly let out a laugh at the ridiculousness of that question, but managed to choke it down before responding with a respectful, "Yes, sir, I'm ready."

No sooner had those words left my mouth that I felt the first smack come down. I immediately clenched my mouth shut and braced myself for the rest of the punishment. I would not let this man down. I would not let out a sound, I would not beg and I most certainly would not cry. I would show him that I was a man and that I would accept my punishment.

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!

I took my punishment in silence, ignoring the growing pain in my backside. My head ached terribly and I just buried it into my arms as I continued to take my spanking.

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!

Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!

"I want you to listen closely, Carlisle, do you hear me?" Arthur finally spoke as his hand continue to come down hard on my defenseless bottom.

"Yes, sir, I'm listening," I responded through clenched teeth, giving a hiss before once more shutting my mouth.

"I'm disappointed in you," he said, and I sucked in a breath, surprised at how much that hurt.

"I expect so much better from you, young man," he lectured sternly. "When I set out a rule I expect you to follow it; and more importantly, I expect you to take care of yourself. How dare you risk your life so foolishly!"

I shut my eyes tightly as the tears began to build. I had been foolish. I had been idiotic and reckless.

"Your life is something to protect," he continued, his hand beginning to come down harder. "I will reiterate that you are loved, and that if anything were to happen to you we would be devastated." My breath hitched at his obvious care for me. I just couldn't understand it. "Take care of yourself or I will do it for you," he then added.

And with those last words, his hand came down even faster and exactly at where my sit spots were. A pained moan escaped my lips as the pain really hit me. My bottom was burning, but truthfully, the burning was a blessing compared to Arthur's words. I was used to pain, especially pain like this. I could handle this.

Arthur abruptly stopped spanking at this moment and began to rub my back once more in that soothing manner.

"It's over, son," he murmured, "It's over."

Over? I thought in complete shock. How could it be over already? Yes, my backside was ablaze, but-but… "Did I do something wrong?" I finally managed to ask when I overcame my shock

"Wrong?!" Arthur gasped in surprise. "O-Of course not, Carlisle, what would make you think that?" He asked as he quickly righted my clothes and pulled me to a standing position. I gasped at the sudden pain, grimacing as my head started to pound along with my rear end.

"You stopped spanking me already," I explained, blinking in surprise. "I-I can handle more, I swear I can. Whatever I did wrong I won't do it again. I'm not weak," I insisted, hurt that he felt I couldn't handle more punishment.

"Carlisle, Carlisle, Carlisle," Arthur repeated, putting his hands on my shoulders, "you are nothing of the sort. You've done nothing wrong and I am very proud of how you handled your punishment. You were very brave."

Proud? Brave? My mind buzzed while at the same time pounding and I was so, so confused.

"How can you be proud of me? You ended the punishment early because I-because I couldn't…" I trailed off as I attempted to explain or understand.

"Why do you think I ended your punishment early?" he questioned, looking rather perplexed. "I gave you exactly what you deserved, and as I already said, you took it very well."

I frowned, the pain in my backside, head, hands, and even my heart becoming too much for me. My filter was gone, so I just spoke from the heart.

"My father would've punished me harder, sir," I informed him, not quite sure what more to say. "He would've been angrier and more disappointed too, and-and he would've told me I really screwed up and that I was a horrible, disrespectful"—

"Stop, please child, stop speaking," Arthur interrupted, moving one of his hands to the back of my neck and giving it a gentle squeeze. It was odd gesture that I wasn't accustomed to, but it felt nice. Father would never do this. The only times he'd grabbed the back of my neck were as a warning, to haul me around, or to force me into punishment position when I was stupid enough to fight him.

"I don't know why your father would," he began to say before pausing and taking in a deep breath. "I cannot speak for your father, Carlisle, or even begin to explain what he does, but just accept that I am not like him. To me I feel as though you've been punished enough. Are you sorry?"

"Yes, sir," I responded immediately.

"Then this punishment is over with," he stated matter of factly. "All is forgiven now."

"Just like that?" I asked.

"Just like that," he said with a smile. "Now, come here, son so I can give you a hug," he beckoned with opened arms as he stood up.

I went into his arms without thought and relished in the warmth and comfort his touch brought me.

"I am incredibly proud of the man you are becoming, Carlisle, and you should be as well," he whispered into my ear. "You are a good, intelligent, brave young man who any father would be proud to call a son. Cherish your life as much as I do." I teared up, the emotions of the day hitting me all at once, and it was his next words that finally put me over the edge.

"I love you," he declared, the sincerity and emotion clear in his tone.

It was at that point that I couldn't keep the tears at bay any more. I began to cry. In fact, I began to sob into his chest. I was so tired, in pain, and just overwhelmed by everything that had happened.

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed finding it too difficult to stop the tears. Hard as I tried I couldn't, so I apologized over and over and over to him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I know, Carlisle, and all is forgiven," he murmured softly. "All is forgiven. There's a good boy, you're alright now."

"I-I-I can't stop," I cried. "I-I-I can't!"

His hug tightened as he questioned, "You can't stop what?"

"Crying!" I shouted, feeling completely distraught. "I'm sorry, so, sorry!

"For crying?!" he responded, seemingly bewildered, which only confused me more.

"Uh-huh!" I responded, nearly unintelligible.

I felt his sad sigh on my scalp, and if possible his hug tightened even more before he released me.

"Look at me, child," he murmured softly, gently lifting my chin so we could see each other's eyes.

"Never, and I repeat never feel sorry for crying," he declared strongly. "There is nothing wrong with crying. It doesn't make you weak at all, do you hear me?"

"But-but-but-but"—I started stuttering.

"But nothing," he interrupted adamantly before gently wiping away some of my tears that didn't seem to want to stop. I stared at him uncomprehendingly, not understanding how he could be so different from my father. I wanted so desperately to believe Arthur, but my father had been telling me differently for all my life. How could my father be wrong? He was the smartest man I knew.

"Father said-my father said that crying was"—I began to say, but he once more interrupted me. His words were kind, but I could see frustration and dismay in his eyes.

"Ignore what your father told you, Carlisle…at least with me," he said, "Do you understand? You never need to feel sorry for crying in my presence. I will not think any less of you."

"I don't get you," I muttered thickly, and he gave a soft chuckle as he once more pulled me close, which served to only increase my crying.

"Oh Carlisle, everything is alright, son. You're doing just fine," he murmured into my ear.

"No, no, no," I basically whined, "I'm not. I'm tired, my head hurts, my hands hurt, and my butt hurts. I just wanna sleep, I'm sorry!" I moaned pitifully, burying my head into his chest. I felt very much like a small child, but I didn't care at this point. He wasn't getting angry, and I just wanted comfort. I craved it. I needed it.

Arthur responded by just shushing me and picked me up as though I weighed no more than a sack of potatoes. I immediately startled, shouting out and beginning to buck in fright. I shouldn't have said anything!

"Woah, woah, woah, woah, child, shh, shh, it's alright now," he spoke soothingly, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you. Deep breaths now, deep breaths," he repeated over and over as he carried me out of the barn.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered pathetically, and he just shushed me once more before starting to whisper to me how good a boy I was and how much he loved me. "It's alright now, Carlisle, I won't hurt you," he added sincerely after I failed to really settle down. His words started to have an effect on me and I slowly began to relax into his hold, exhaustion getting the best of me.

"Go to sleep, Carlisle, all will be well when you wake up," he murmured. His words and his arms were comforting, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so wanted and protected. I loved this. I really did, and with those comforting thoughts I fell fast asleep.

A/N: Yes, this is the ending! Hope you enjoyed!

PS: I am working on an epilogue for Week of Tears. No promises as to when it will be ready.

PPS: Once again, I know stallions are male now. I'm an idiot for not knowing this earlier, but I am to lazy to fix it throughout the story. So sorry!