Testing, Testing
Chapter Three
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic.
Summary: See Chapter One
Warning(s): Spanking; violence; some making out; spoilers; some mild swearing
Author's Note: This is the third and final chapter. Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed this fic so far . This chapter is actually also partly borne out of another plot bunny that clung to my leg. (I have a lot of those…) Basically, this would be some kind of proof that Dean would do anything for Sam.
Enjoy!
Sam walked into the bar, his bag with the gun in slung over his shoulder. For just a moment, Sam wondered if he was making the right choice in doing this. Do I really want to prove myself to Dean? That thought only went through his mind for a moment, though, before Sam pushed it away again.
At least it'll prove just how Dean feels…
Sam pulled the EMF reader out of his bag and waved it around, biting his lip slightly. The next moment, he wished that he'd been able to figure out how to turn the sound off without losing the information, since the EMF let out a series of shrill beeps.
A few people turned – presumably to find the source of the sound – and Sam quickly shoved the EMF away again. He had managed to make out what had set the EMF off, though.
A dark-haired woman was sitting at the bar, drinking what seemed like vodka. She didn't turn when the EMF went off, but Sam could see that she had a slender, curvaceous form. She was chatting to the bartender, resting her free hand on lightly on the surface with the fingers slightly curled.
Easy pickings…
Sam headed over to the succubus, and sat down on the free stool next to her. "Hi there," he said.
The succubus turned, pinning Sam with dark brown eyes, and a slow smile spread across her face. "Well, hello," she purred. "You looking for a good time, big boy?" She leaned closer to Sam so that her lips were right next to his ear. "I can give you everything you want… Sam Winchester." As she pulled back, she smiled at him, and reached to lightly touch his arm. "I can become your deepest desire."
"You know my name?" Sam watched the succubus warily. He had the gun in his bag – but he would prefer not to have to use it in such a public place. I'd better play along, he decided, and allowed himself to smile gently at the succubus. "Why don't we step outside?" he suggested, standing up.
The succubus tilted her head slightly. "Don't you want to get a drink first?" she asked.
Flattery is probably the best option right now. "Well… you're so beautiful, I don't want to wait," Sam replied, giving a slightly bashful smile.
The succubus laughed softly, and drained her drink before standing up. "After you," she said, gesturing in front of her.
Sam was a little hesitant about turning his back on the demon. However, he was pretty sure that she wouldn't try anything in such a public place. And he usually had no problem getting the drop on supernatural creatures. Besides, the last thing he wanted was for the succubus to get suspicious.
So Sam headed out of the bar in front of the succubus. Then, as he heard the demon exit the bar behind him, Sam pulled the gun out of his bag, and then turned quickly, raising it to aim at the succubus.
Except she had changed.
Sam slowly lowered his gun, and stared at the woman now standing in front of him. "Jess…?" he whispered, trembling slightly. He knew that it had to be some kind of trick, but…
It was her.
"Oh, Sam." Jessica stepped up to Sam, pressing herself against his body. "I've missed you so much…"
Sam knew that he should shoot her, but all he could think was how much he had missed Jessica. His mind felt almost clouded, and he could hardly think straight. As Jess kissed him, the gun slipped from his nerveless fingers, and then he slowly raised his hands to cradle her chin.
The kiss deepened, and Sam held the woman close, having forgotten completely about the succubus. He didn't even react when he felt something cold press lightly against his spine. Then, he gasped, his back arching as he felt something pierce his skin.
Sam tried to pull away, but the demon's hold on him tightened, and she bit down on his lip. He struggled, but felt himself actually starting to become weaker as she started tearing at his shirt.
As dark spots danced in front of his eyes, Sam thought he heard the sound of someone speaking in Latin. The succubus then began screaming, and tried to let go of Sam – but he still possessed enough presence of mind to hang onto her.
The chanting continued while Sam struggled to hold onto the squirming demon. Then, he heard, "Let her go, Sam!"
Sam released the demon, and stumbled back a few paces. He watched as her form started to melt away, even as the demon let out a piercing scream. Then, from above his head, Sam heard the sound of a gun being fired. He ducked automatically, and saw the bullet hit the demon in the forehead. Its body froze, and then slowly dissipated.
Sam slowly crouched to pick up the gun, and then turned round. He wasn't too surprised to see Dean standing there, holding his gun at his side.
Sam took a deep breath. "I can explain."
Dean pinned his brother with a hard stare. "Save it, Sammy," he replied. "The Impala's just round the corner. Get in."
"What are you going to do?" Sam asked.
Dean put his gun away, and walked right up to Sam. He then cuffed his brother lightly on the shoulder. "Get your sorry ass back to the motel."
"We've gotta clear this up," Sam replied.
Dean stared hard at Sam. "One."
Sam immediately flinched, remembering full well what their father meant by counting – and what happened when he got to five. But surely Dean wouldn't… spank me? "Dean," he said, trying to keep the pleading note out of his voice.
"Two."
Sam stared at Dean, starting to feel rather panicked. Then, he got angry. How can he just stand there like that, so arrogant to think that I'll follow his orders?! "You know, I would never have done this if you hadn't…!" he started.
Dean raised his eyebrows. "If I hadn't what?"
Sam looked stubbornly away, refusing to answer his brother's question. If you don't know, then I'm not going to tell you.
Receiving no response, Dean resumed his counting: "Three…"
Not wanting to cause any more of a scene, Sam quickly made his way towards the car and got in the passenger side. Dean got in as well, his jaw set in a tight line.
The drive back to the motel was silent.
Sam slowly walked into the room, biting his lip slightly. Dean hadn't said a word at all, and Sam couldn't shake the slight feeling of fear. That one question wouldn't leave him alone and made him tense up and his hands go clammy.
He wouldn't really… would he?
Dean slammed the door shut behind him, and then turned to Sam, his eyes narrowed. "So, care to explain to me just what the hell was going through your mind?"
"I worked out what was killing those men and decided to go after it." Even to his own ears, Sam's argument sounded weak. And he definitely didn't like the way Dean was looking intently at him… I didn't really want the disciplinarian.
"Uh-uh." Dean clearly wasn't buying into Sam's answer. "Sam. Out of all the times we've been hunting, you've always been the one insisting that we take the time to do proper research on everything supernatural we hunt. So I'm not biting, Sammy. So you can either tell me now, or you can tell me later – but you will tell me."
Sam said nothing.
Dean took a step towards his brother. "Now would be a really bad time for you to give me a wrong answer here, Sammy." He began rolling up his sleeves.
Sam instantly took a step back. "Dean, what are you doing…?"
"I'd have thought that was pretty obvious, Sammy." Not giving his brother a chance to react, Dean pounced, and grabbed Sam by the arms. Despite his brother's struggling and squirming, Dean was able to drag him the few feet to the bed, and sit down on it. He then had to all but wrestle the still-fighting Sam across his lap and pin him there with an arm across his back.
"Dean, stop it!" Sam yelled.
"Not gonna happen, Sammy." Dean raised his free hand and brought it down in a swat against his brother's denim-clad backside. "What possessed you to do something so stupidly dangerous?! You think that psychic powers are gonna protect you, huh?!" Dean aimed some sharp swats at the seat of Sam's jeans with every other word.
"No!" Sam yelled, struggling to get away from the stinging smacks – but Dean's hold was too strong.
"Then what is it?!"
"Because you don't care!" Sam yelled out finally, the sting in his behind finally getting to him.
Dean stopped mid-swing, taken aback by Sam's words. "What?"
Dean's grip on Sam loosened, but Sam made no move to get up or try to make eye contact with his brother. "You don't care about me anymore," he mumbled. "Like with the demon at the crossroads. You just want to get dad back. And I don't blame you – because I do as well. But not at the cost of your life. I can't… you're my brother, Dean. But right now, I'm losing you."
Dean shook his head slightly. "Sam…" he ground out. "If you're telling me that this was some kind of test, I swear you're not going to be sitting comfortably for at least a week!"
"You're telling me that my doubts were completely unfounded?" Sam slowly pushed himself up off Dean's lap. "You've been taking your pain out on me, Dean – you even hit me once. You hardly ever talk to me anymore… It's like I don't exist anymore."
"Sam…" Dean closed his eyes for a moment.
Sam looked down, avoiding his brother's eyes. "So, yeah – I was testing you. Can you blame me? I just want my big brother back…"
For a moment, Dean looked pained. Then, "Well, Sam – it's not like putting yourself in danger is a good decision. For one thing, it means that now you're going to get your ass beat for that stunt."
Sam looked at his brother in disbelief. "No way."
"It's going to happen, Sam. Easy or hard, it's your choice. Care to test how mad I am at you for what you just did?"
Sam glanced at the door.
"You'd never make it." Dean eyed Sam. "Jeans down."
Sam wanted to protest – but there was something vaguely recognisable in his brother's tone. A part of Sam knew that his brother was taking charge – and that was what he had wanted, after all. That and proof that his brother still loved him.
It looked like he had both.
Sam stood up, and fumbled with the fastenings of his jeans. Blushing furiously, he pushed them down, and then slowly leaned over his brother's lap again. He made sure that his broken wrist was supported enough, and then waited for Dean to start. Those few swats over his jeans had only been a warm-up, after all.
It was the real thing now.
Sam felt Dean pull his underwear down, and had to fight to not protest that. He wasn't given much time to be concerned about his modesty, though, as Dean brought his hand down in a hard smack.
Sam gritted his teeth, determined to take the punishment in silence, but as the hard smacks continued, he couldn't help wriggling around, trying to avoid them – or at least so that they were spread out over a more or less even area.
Dean paid no attention to his brother's squirming, though, and continued the hard spanking.
As the tears trickled down his face, Sam was hyper-aware of Dean's presence. This was the first time he and Dean had really touched since their father's death – with the exception of when Dean had hit him.
Sam was feeling connected to his brother in a way that he didn't understand.
Unable to help himself, Sam started pleading while the hard, relentless smacks kept coming. He could hear himself making the promises, and was beginning to regret ever doubting his brother's love or care.
Sam finally hung his head and just sobbed. When Dean's punishing hand stopped, he tried to push himself off his brother's knee, but was stopped when Dean pulled his own belt through the loops of his jeans.
"That was for testing me. This next part is for the way you put your life in danger." Dean's other arm tightened over Sam's body, and, wasting no more time, he brought the leather belt down ten times, hard.
By the time it was over, Sam was crying harder than he'd ever thought possible. He was only dimly aware of Dean gently rubbing his back and making soothing noises. It reminded him of when he'd been younger, and Dean had taken care of him after a nightmare…
When he'd calmed down a little, Dean helped Sam to stand up. Sam carefully pulled his underwear back up, but chose to kick his jeans off in favour of finding some cotton pants to wear instead. Before he could, though, Dean pulled him into a hard hug.
Sam clung to his brother, crying into his shoulder. Dean didn't seem to mind, though, and just stood there, holding Sam close.
And Sam finally had his brother back again…
The End
