Party Animal Part 3

Authors note: Just a head's up: this chapter will mainly be of Moira receiving her 'comeuppance,' since I though it only fair she and Dean both be in trouble. However, Dean will be getting his fair share next time, so stay tuned!

Marcus turned back into the house after watching the Winchesters leave. And weren't they an odd pair? He didn't remember anyone by that name living in town. As Marcus faced his wrecked living room, he carefully eyed his daughter, the anger from earlier returning. And that dress, dear God that dress. What was he going to do with her? Elaine quietly shut the door behind them and the two ventured over to the couch where Moira sat, hands clasped and head bowed.

"Oh Moira." Was all Elaine could say in her quiet, breathless voice laced with disapproval and sadness.

Moira looked at her parents with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry. Mom. Dad. I shouldn't have had the party, it was a terrible idea." But Dean wasn't, she thought ruefully. Actually, he was the best idea she'd had since—

"Then why did you?" He father's tone was stern. Moira shrugged. "I need an answer, young lady." Marcus growled.

"Because it was fun, I guess. Everyone has parties, Dad, an-and I just wanted some friends to come, but then it sort of got out of hand…" She trailed off miserably.

"Did we say you could have anyone over?" He asked firmly. Moira shook her head again and Elaine put a restraining hand on her husband's arm. No need to get overworked.

Her father sighed angrily. "I just don't understand. You know what we expect from you. I thought you were responsible, trustworthy—"

"I am!" Moira exclaimed sadly. "I just messed up. Can't you understand that?"

"This was one of hell of a way to mess up, Moira." Marcus thundered. "I can't see how you can go from a straight 'A' student, who never acts out and is well-mannered and polite, to-to, to this!" Moira cringed, her father rarely cursed.

"Maybe you should just sum it up to teenage defiance." She mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Marcus's eyes were flinty and Elaine applied more pressure to his forearm, as if pleading with her husband to be reasonable.

Moira didn't dare look back her father. This was such a bad idea.

"Remind me again when juvenile delinquency became just a part of 'teenage defiance.'" Marcus voiced sarcastically.

"It was just a party!"

"Which you were not allowed to have. And a party where you broke the law."

Moira gasped. "No. I didn't!"

"The last time I checked underage drinking and drugs were illegal. In fact, smoking at your age might be too." Her father's tone was venomous and Moira shivered involuntarily.

She risked a glance at her parents, Marcus's gaze practically spit fire as he leaned towards his teenage daughter and Elaine held back, looking sad and distrustful. Man had she messed up badly….

Moira gulped and found her voice. "I-I didn't drink or eat anything, I promise. And the drugs and smoking – they weren't supposed to do that!"

"But you held the party, so you should have known." He father replied coldly. The tears built in her eyes and Moira did her best to blink them away, the shame of her folly coming on like a cold front. Quick and painful; Moira just hoped the rest of this would be less so.

"What are we going to do with you, Moira?" Her father finally asked, not so much in fury, but in a calm voice with evident disappointment. Moira sniffed, wiping at her eyes in embarrassment.

"I-I don't know."

Her father sighed. "Go up to your room and wait for me. Your mother and I have some things to discuss." She nodded sadly, making her way past them and towards the stairs before she heard: "Moira?"

She turned to see both parents watching her, her mother in particular waiting for spell before continuing. "Get rid of that dress."

XXXXX

Dean's fingers drummed nervously in time to AC/DC's track. There was just something calming about music so loud you couldn't think. And anyway, it kinda fit: dark night, deep beat. It just felt too damn short. Dean glanced in his rearview mirror, there was Dad and Sammy coming after him and Dean gulped. Think about the song, man. Dean realized that this was exactly how he had wanted the night to go; instead his was a mile deep in fucking horseshit. Hopefully Moira was faring better, he'd have to ask her Monday at school, if he lived that long.

Dean saw the motel and drove towards the old building anxiously. For the first time in a while he wasn't enjoying his music very much. It just all seemed like too damn much. And anyway, people need power songs before they face their fears, not songs about sex. Not that songs about sex were bad. Dean just couldn't think about that right now. Come to think of it, hoped that his dad didn't know about him and Moira, you know, doing 'it', that would be so many new kinds of hell. Dean shuddered.

The Impala smoothly glided into the back motel parking lot and Dean steered her into a parking space. They sure needed some fucking lighting back here, a person could get lost in the damn darkness trying to find the door. Dad's truck pulled up a few spaces down and Dean watched his father climb out, walking over to carry Sammy out and up to their room. Dean quickly hopped out, casting a final glance at the Impala. It was probably the last time he'd drive her in a while. Hang in there, Baby, Dean thought, and pray for me, good Lord, pray for me.

XXXXX

Moira sat quietly on her bed, shifting once again between sitting, standing, and generally being restless. She hated waiting, she wondered if Dean did too. Of course, waiting wasn't all bad, but this kind was. She felt a heavy pit in her stomach and the dryness on her tongue as she stayed patiently, or as much so as possible, ready for the verdict. And there was no way her parents would be happy. Crap.

Finally, heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and soft voices carried down the hall. If Moira were a dog, her ears would have sticking straight up in anticipation as she moved forward. The doorknob turned to reveal her Dad, looking somber as ever, followed by her Mom. Elaine slipped past her husband to sit down next to their daughter while Marcus pulled out the desk chair. More than ever Moira realized how disappointed they were. And more than ever she hated herself for it.

Then her mother spoke: "We want to you to understand Moira. What you did was not okay_"

"It was deplorable. And it'd better never happen again, are we clear?" Marcus interrupted. Moira nodded quickly as her mother fixed him with an angry stare as if to say, 'let me finish!'

"And we've decided you father will punish you." And so….?

"I haven't spanked you since you were four years old—" Marcus began.

"What?!" Moira was shocked at her voice and how she sounded. She felt so immature squeaking in indignance and worry at this pronouncement. They couldn't be serious! She looked between her parents. They were serious. Moira leapt from her place, flying towards the door in her pajamas, not really sure where she was going. Just the hell outta here… Dean probably wouldn't have run scared like that.

She scrambled to open the door, sweaty palms fumbling with the fake brass until she made her way into the hallway. She reached for the railing and a firm hand snatched her from behind, dragging her back into the bedroom. Moira struggled before falling over a strong set of knees, doing her best to keep from face planting on the floor. Then smack! Moira let out an angry squeak once again, face burning in shame. And boy had that hurt.

Again the hand descended leaving a fiery trail prickling at her backside. Then two more over that one. She gasped. Her father continued, setting a painful rhythm and Moira pulled one hand from the floor to block the onslaught. Without even pausing, her Dad caught her wrist and held it to the small of her back. For someone who hadn't spanked anyone for thirteen years, he was pretty darn good. A particularly hard swat caught Moira off guard, ripping her unpleasantly from her thoughts and she squawked.

The pain began to build, a stinging wall crawling across her skin and she squirmed hoping for a reprieve. Swat, swat, swat. Moira felt tears prick her eyes and she sniffed loudly, trying to keep quiet. But this wasn't missed by her father, and Marcus tilted her forwards to attack the tender area where thigh met butt. That's when she broke. Moira's silent concentration turned to sobbing as the pain became too much.

Marcus placed another five swats on her under curve before returning to the crest of her buttocks, leaving her gasping and breath hitching. Swat. Swat.

"Daaad!" Moira shrieked. "Stop. Please stop. 'M soorreee!" She wailed loudly, letting the tears fall freely as she struggled. But her father was relentless and finally, Moira sobbed brokenly over his knee, a complete mess and she felt all of four years old. Marcus pulled his daughter up, carefully resting her on his knee before pulling her into a tight hug. And Moira sobbed into his shoulder, clinging to him in desperate need of comfort. That was worse than she remembered….

XXXXX

Dean climbed the back stairs leading to their room, carefully eyeing the back of his Dad's jacket and the dangling legs and hands which were all he could see of Sammy. The kid was out, not even like a light, he was in some magic world or something shitty like that where people go when they are gone. Too far gone. Dean was pretty sure Sammy'd been drooling. Oh man, wait 'till he told the little punk!

John reached the door first, struggling to pull the room key out of his pocket while holding the limp boy in his arms. Dean quickly and wordlessly grabbed the key from his father and opened the door. His Dad nodded. Hell, Dean was pretty sure that was the first thing he'd done right today. Whoopie-fucking-doo. The lights were switched on and his Dad laid Sammy on one of the motel beds, pulling his shoes off and settling him under the covers. What a lucky little punk. Dean wished he could just fall into bed now; he didn't even need Moira there. He just needed some damn sleep.

John sighed loudly, turning to his eldest with a weary gaze. Dean noticed for the first time how sad the man looked, all dopey and tired. Well damn.

"Get to bed." John said in a hushed voice, glancing at the sleeping boy across from them. "We'll talk about this in the morning." Right, talk. Dean barely contained a snort, what a load of shit.

TBC

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