Fatal Mistakes

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural and I'm not making any money from this fic

Summary: Why does Sam hate the supernatural less than his father and brother? Some time before going away to Stanford University, he makes a terrible mistake while on a hunt

Prompt: 23 – spirit, trapped, maps

Implement: Hand and belt

Type of story: Gen

Warning(s): Strong violence; some swearing; spanking

Sam frowned at the pieces of paper he had printed off, studying the notes with a look of intense concentration on his face. Therefore, he didn't notice that Dean was sneaking up on him, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Suddenly, Sam felt a poke in his back and the papers snatched from his hands. He whirled on his brother. "Dean!"

Dean smirked, holding the papers behind his back, where Sam couldn't get to them. "Come on, Sammy," he said. "You've been doing research all day. You should take a break now. It's not the first hunt we've been on."

"It's the first hunt we've been on without Dad," Sam protested.

"So? It just means that the man finally trusts us not to have him looking over our shoulders all the time. You already know who it is, Sam. You don't have to spend all day cooped up inside. You have to get out and have some fun. I know a great bar we can go to. The girls there are so hot."

"Typical," Sam muttered, making a half-hearted grab for the sheets of paper. "You must be the only person I know who equates getting laid to having fun."

"Hey, it's the only way to have fun." As he spoke, Dean started walking towards the door, still keeping a tight grasp on the papers. "Well? Are you coming or what? You can have this back later."

"One moment. I just want to check on a location." Sam grabbed one of the maps from the table. "Just in case we end up staying out too late. I know you, Dean." Despite the exasperation in his voice, Sam had to admit that he was relieved. He felt like he should have some time off.

Even though he wasn't entirely sure he'd found the right spirit.

"At least I know how to have fun," Dean retorted. "I can't believe you're actually related to me, Sammy. You're so stuffy."

"It's Sam."

"Yeah, that's what I said." Whistling under his breath – rather tunelessly – Dean walked out of the room.

"So do you want to go somewhere quieter?" The pretty brunette leaned forward slightly, as if she was whispering a secret to Sam. "I know you want to wait for your brother, but it looks to me like he's having plenty of fun without you."

Sam smiled at the woman, enjoying the warm feeling which came from being slightly tipsy, but not actually drunk. Somewhere at the back of his mind was the thought that he and his brother had something important to do; but he couldn't think of what it was; and besides, he was enjoying the woman's company.

"What do you say?"

Sam smiled, feeling only slightly embarrassed over the fact that he'd forgotten the woman's name. They weren't likely to see each other after tonight, anyway. Normally, he'd be too interested in his work – and feel too awkward – to just randomly sleep around like Dean did. But the alcohol was bolstering him a little. The job could always wait... couldn't it? They weren't sure of the pattern, but it was unlikely that the spirit – or whatever it was – would strike again that evening.

"Hey, Sammy."

Sam frowned as he felt Dean's light poke in the back, and he looked apologetically at the woman. "It's my big brother. Looks like we're not gonna be able to go somewhere quiet after all. Sorry." He stood up, feeling his senses sharpen. As long as he didn't drink too much alcohol, he was able to shake off the effects easily. "We'll have to do this some other time."

The woman pouted, but quickly turned her attention to someone else.

"You up for this?" Dean asked in a low voice, as the brothers left the pub and made their way to the Impala. He passed the papers over to Sam. "Better make sure we're going to salt and burn the right spirit."

Sam took the papers, but didn't look at them. "I already tracked the spirit down. It was a teenager who died in a car accident. It seems she's unable to move on." He found the picture of the blonde girl, and showed it to his brother. "It was last month, or something like that."

Dean glanced at the photo. "At least it'll be over with soon." He got into the driver's side, and leaned across to open the passenger door for Sam. "Well? Are you going to get in?"

"Give me a chance." Sam got in as well and put the papers on the back seat. "The grave'll be easy to find. The girl's parents invested in the statue of an angel to put there." He unfolded the map, and proceeded to direct his brother to the grave site.

"I hate graveyards," Dean muttered, as he pushed open the door and walked in, his brother following close behind him.

"Isn't that because Dad caught you making out with a girl rather than keeping watch in a graveyard?" Sam asked. There was still the faintest buzz from the alcohol, and he found it amusing more than anything else.

Dean rolled his eyes, directing a half-hearted glare at his brother. "I thought I told you not to mention that again." He headed over to a cluster of graves, with an angel statue in the midst of them. "I'm assuming the right grave's over here – unless there are two angel statues here. What is it about dead people and angels? Really gives me the creeps," he muttered, stopping in front of the statue.

Sam held up his shovel. "I suppose we'd better get started digging," he said. Without waiting for a reply, he made a start on the grave right at the foot of the statue.

"Sure, whatever." As Dean moved, though, a gust of wind rose, and something hit him with enough force to send him flying backwards, cracking his head against one of the graves. Even so, he started to push himself up again – only to freeze in place, as if some force was holding him still.

"Dean!" Sam started towards his brother, but felt something barrel into him. He grabbed at something solid, and threw a blonde girl of about seventeen to the ground, pinning her there. "Let go of my brother!"

The girl coughed, staring up at him. "Not... me..." she gasped out. "My sister..."

"Don't listen to her, Sam! She's a ghost! They all deceive!"

"You don't have a sister!" Sam snapped.

The next moment, something hit him with tremendous force, enough to send him flying back, landing at his brother's feet. For a brief moment, he thought he could see an identical blonde spirit next to the one he had knocked down. Twins? He shook his head slightly to clear it. How could he have missed that?

But then, he hadn't paid enough attention to the notes.

"Sam, hurry up and exorcise them already!"

Sam got to his feet, but just ended up being knocked to the ground again. The second blonde sat down on his chest, pinning him there. She might have been pretty once, but now her face was twisted with hate. She raked his cheek with sharp nails, but was then pulled away by her sister.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Sam threw himself forward, grabbed the shovel, and started digging. When the evil twin went after him, she was distracted either by her sister; or by Dean shouting something. With all that going on, it was amazing just how fast Sam was able to move.

Getting the coffin open wasn't exactly easy, though, as Sam was trying to ignore the catfight going on above his head. He'd lost track of which twin was evil and which wasn't... What if he'd got the wrong coffin, and burned the wrong twin's bones?

"Hurry up, Sam!"

Sam nearly dropped the salt on the ground as the evil twin went for him. The next moment, there was the sound of rock salt. Having got free, Dean came over to help him, which meant that they managed to set the bones on fire, even though the ghost kept trying to swoop down and stop them. As the remains burned, there was a high-pitched scream; and as Sam looked up, both twins disappeared.

"They must have been tied together." Dean got to his feet and grabbed the shotgun.

Sam slowly stood up as well. "The bones were the only thing holding the evil twin here; and when they were destroyed, there was no reason for her sister to stick around as well." Was it possible that some of the creatures they'd encountered weren't evil? There was no way for Sam to know for sure... and no way to prove it; not yet, at least. But it wasn't something he should just forget.

"Forget it, Sammy. These things lie and deceive; it's what they always do. Spirits turn bad after they die." Dean pinned Sam with a glare. "Speaking of lying..."

"You have every right to be mad at me," Sam interrupted. "I thought that I knew everything about this case... But I didn't think to check on how many people died in the car accident. I should have looked at the notes more closely." No matter what Dean said, Sam had to admit that he probably wouldn't have been able to burn the bones if the girl hadn't kept her sister from him.

Even if he found out their names, how could he know which one had gone bad?

"You know, the only reason I made you go out was because I thought you'd finished the research; and you didn't tell me any different. And really, you know better than to drink right before we go on a hunt." As he spoke, Dean grabbed Sam's arm and spun him round, shoving him forward and over one of the graves. With his other hand, he started spanking his brother's denim-clad behind hard and fast. "It's basic safety, Sam. Alcohol dulls your senses. That's why we don't drink and hunt."

Almost automatically, Sam started struggling. The spanking didn't really hurt, but his bottom was getting warmed. "I know, all right?!" he snapped.

Shaking his head, Dean undid his belt and pulled it out of the loops. He brought the leather down across Sam's bottom a good few times. "I don't think you do know. Next time, think a little more."

Sam gasped as the belt continued to fall, his bottom starting to sting and burn. Just as the tears started to prick at his eyes, Dean let him up and gave him an awkward hug.

"Just don't do stupid things, all right, Sam? I don't want you to end up dead."

Sam swallowed, and wondered if now was the right time to tell his brother that he'd made the decision to go to Stanford University.

The End