John's not sure when things went so wrong, but he knows he's fucked up irreparably when Dean hands him the belt.
It's just the two of them. Sam's still at the hospital and after three days, the doctor finally kicked them out, informing them they wouldn't be allowed back until visiting hours the next day, telling them quietly that it's for their own good. They should take care of themselves and let the hospital take care of Sam.
With great reluctance, they head back to the motel for much needed showers and sleep.
And when John steps out of the bathroom, clean, feeling refreshed, he finds Dean, head hung, belt in hand, completely and utterly naked.
"I screwed up, Dad," Dean says, voice wavering with tears he'll never shed and unfathomable guilt. "I let Sammy get hurt."
"Dean...what're you--" John trails off when Dean looks up, catching his eye for the first time, and John is startled by everything he sees there. He can't even begin to discern what emotions have been stirred into that cocktail. He tries a new tactic. Anything to stop himself from looking at the pale expanse of Dean's bared skin. "It wasn't your fault, Dean."
God, help him. Look away. Look away.
He can't.
Dean snarls in response, stepping nearer and shaking the belt in John's face. "I shouldn't have let him go alone. You know it just as well as I do."
John has always taught his sons not to lie, and he'd be a hypocrite if he didn't adhere to the same rules. Sam's only sixteen, has some learning about hunting to do yet. Truth is, he shouldn't have gone up against that griffin on his own. John shudders as he remembers its ear-piercing shriek. God, there had been so much blood.
And here, Dean is asking for punishment. Even more depraved, he can see Dean is hard; his cock points up, angry and red and dribbling from the tip. Shit.
"I deserve to be punished, Sir," Dean says, hanging his head again, offering the belt to John. And fuck if John doesn't feel his pants becoming uncomfortably tight. Oh hell. He's fucked up and sick and every other damning name he can think of for himself, but none of it stops him from taking the belt from Dean's hands. Swallowing hard, he watches silently as Dean bends himself over the end of one of the beds, presenting his father with his bare ass.
John moves into place behind his son and raises his arm high, hating himself so very very much.