Chapter 12:
The sound of the blast echoed in the room, making my ears ring. I had hit my head against the wall when I was thrown back, making my vision double and sway for a few moments, before it came back together. My gun had fallen out of my hands on the way down, and I could hear Dean yell in pain. Now, he was laying motionless on the ground.
I was getting shakily to my feet, supporting myself on the wall when Sam came charging in the room. He looked around as though expecting to see some other type of danger, because when his eyes fell on Dean, then me, I could see him put two and two together. The shock on his face was enough to make my eyes tear up immediately, but as soon as he said,
"Did you just-" without even finishing, I had burst into tears.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" I wailed. "It was an accident, I was only pretending!"
Dean, who hadn't moved or said anything since I pulled the trigger, groaned on the floor, rolling to his side and propping himself up on his elbow.
"Pretending to be who? God damn Annie Oakley?" he snapped, pain lacing his voice. Sam looked from Dean to me, like he couldn't believe his eyes.
"I'm sorry!" I cried, hugging my body.
Sam stalked towards me and I backed up reflexively. He didn't follow me though. Instead, he stooped down to pick up the gun. He clicked the safety back on and then put it back into the bag, zipping it closed.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Dean demanded. "You know weapons are off limits!"
"I'm sorry!" I didn't know what else to say. I was in shock. I had just shot my brother. I could have killed him. Heck, if I aimed a little higher, I probably would have.
"Sorry is not an answer!" Dean replied with a serious look on his face. "You could have killed me! You could have hurt yourself, or worse, you could have hurt an innocent person! So you better tell me right now what the hell you were thinking, little girl!"
I sank to the floor, burying my face into my hands. I couldn't tell him. He would be so mad-not that he wasn't already mad. He would probably send me to Bobby's, and most likely with an extremely sore backside.
Dean groaned, and I could hear him moving. Footsteps went past me, then the sink in the bathroom was turned on. I peered through my tear soaked fingers and saw Dean sitting on the bed with his shirt off. His chest was deeply bruised, and peppered with blood and rock salt. My breath hitched and I whimpered at the sight of what I had done, making Dean look over at me.
"You see this?" he gestured to his chest. "These are the consequences to your actions."
I don't think I've ever felt so bad in my life. I was beyond being able to convey how bad I felt, and how sorry I was.
"I'm sorry!" I wailed again as Sam walked past me again, this time with a wet towel for Dean, who held it to his chest. Sam stood next to him, looking at me.
"Sorry is no where near good enough. Not for this." Dean said. "And I'm still waiting for you to explain yourself.
I buried my face in my hands again, shaking my head. He was going to hate me now. How could he love me after I shot him.
Hands forced themselves under my armpits, and suddenly I was being lifted up off the floor. Dean sat me down on the bed, putting both hands on either side of my legs with his face close to mine, forcing me to look at him.
"Explain. Now."
My breath hitched in my throat.
"I just-I just wanted to try it." I sobbed.
"Try what? Killing someone?"
"No!" I wailed defensively.
"Why in the world would you need to even touch a gun?"
"I don't-"
"Don't you dare say it." Dean growled. "I swear, if you say 'I don't know', I'm going to take you over my knee until you do, and until I get the full story out of you. And then, after that, I'll keep you over my knee for the spanking you know you got coming. Understand me?"
"Y-yes, Dean!"
"Good. Now, I want answers."
"I was t-trying to teach myself how to use a gun." I stammered.
"Why." he demanded, and when I hesitated a little too long, he reached for my arms.
"Because I want to be a hunter!" I said quickly. "It's not fair that you won't let me chose my own life! You and Sam got to be hunters-"
"Sam and I didn't have a choice!" Dean yelled, making me jump. Boy, he was pissed. "Sam and I, wouldn't have chosen this life if it wasn't forced on us!"
"I should be able to choose!"
"You can choose to be whatever you want, but it won't be a hunter! Especially not now! You're clearly not responsible enough to even use a gun!"
I looked down into my lap, tears sliding down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry." I whispered. All I wanted to do was hug Dean. I was so scared that I had killed him, and so shaken up, that all I wanted to do was just be reassured that everything was okay. I knew that wasn't going to happen.
Dean pursed his lips, then nodded his head, looking away.
"Yeah. I'm going to make sure of that." he stood up and wiped his hand down his face. "Go stand in the corner."
I slid off the bed and trudged to the corner, resting my head against the wall.
"I'm going to clean myself up. Keep your nose in the corner. Sam is going to be watching you."
He went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I kept my head against the wall, looking down at my feet, tears dripping off my chin and landing on the carpet.
I really, really regretted even thinking about taking out the gun now.
I must have been in the corner for at least fifteen minutes before Dean came out of the bathroom. I was tempted to turn around to see him, but I knew I was already in enough trouble.
I could hear Sam and Dean whispering to each other, then the door to the room opened and closed. Dean must have sent Sam out.
"Susannah." Dean said my full name and I trembled. "Come here."
I slowly turned around, regarding him wearily as I made my way over. He looked sternly at me the entire way, until I came to a stop in front of him. He was sitting on the bed again and had on a clean shirt.
"I want you to tell me exactly what happened once we left. Don't leave out anything. I want to know what you did and what you were thinking when you did it."
I looked down at my hands, picking at the skin around my fingernails.
"Look at me." Dean said as I opened my mouth to start. I put my hands down by my side and looked up at him.
"I was going to go to the bathroom, and then I saw the bag. I knew that you rarely ever leave the bag in the room when your not there and that if I wanted to try using the guns, I wouldn't have another chance anytime soon. So I opened it and took the gun out. I aimed it at the wall and then you came in."
"What about the safety?"
"I took it off."
"And the forestock?"
"I pumped it."
"So, if you were just pretending, why on earth did you take the safety off? And more importantly, why would you pump it?"
"I don't know." I said, before I could even realize that I had said it. My eyes went wide, but before I could correct myself, I was over Dean's lap and he was laying down swat after swat on my backside, and they weren't gentle warm up swats either. They were the kind he used when he was really trying to get me to remember my lesson.
I shrieked and buried my face into the cover on the bed.
"What did I say?" Dean asked, slowing down, but keeping a steady pace.
"That I can't say I don't know!" I hiccuped.
"So answer my question. Why would you pump it if you were only pretending?"
"Because . . . because . . . I was trying to teach myself how to use it!"
Dean landed two particularly painful swats to my sit-spots then lifted me to my feet, holding my arms.
"I hope it was worth it, because this is never, going to happen again. Am I clear?"
I nodded, sniffling.
"Verbal answer."
"Yes, Dean."
"We have rules for you for a reason, Susannah. To keep you-and other people-safe. It's one thing when you break a rule and put yourself in danger, but to break a rule and put other people in danger is just as, if not more, unacceptable."
"I'm-"
"I don't want to hear it." Dean interrupted, shaking his head. "You broke our rule about weapons, you put yourself in danger, you put other people in danger, and you went behind my back to do it. Do you know how that makes me feel?"
I shook my head.
"Like I can't trust you."
My breath caught in my throat and I looked at him with pleading, tearful eyes. He looked back at me for a few silent moments, and I wished I knew what he was thinking.
"Last time you put yourself in danger, I told you I was going to bring you to Bobby's."
That was it.
"No, Dean, please! Please, I promise I won't ever do it again! I'll be good, I'll do whatever you want! Please, don't send me to Bobby's, I want to be with you!" I had thrown my arms around him, forgetting that I just shot him in the chest, but he didn't push me away. I was crying hard now. Dean let me plead with him for a few moments until I had nothing left to say, and just stood there, wrapped around him, crying. Then he pushed me back to my feet so he could look into my eyes. I was a mess. I had tears and snot running down my face.
"Because we're getting close to finding Dad, I'm going to give you the chance to change my mind. For the next few weeks you are grounded. No privileges. You're going to do exactly as your told, when you're told, and if you give me-or Sam-any trouble, you can bet your ass I'll be bringing you directly to Bobby. You're lucky I'm being this nice right now. I should be dragging your ass to Bobby's right now for what you just pulled. So consider yourself lucky."
"Yes, Dean."
I felt so relieved, even if this wasn't over yet. At least I knew he wasn't going to send me to Bobby's.
"Alright. Now I want you to go back to the corner. While you're there, I want you to think about a punishment you think you deserve. Not a spanking, because you're going to get one of those when Sam get's back."
"Where is Sam?" I asked in a tiny, hesitant voice.
"I sent him out to get something." Dean said, then pointed to the corner. "Go."
I turned around and headed back to the corner, resting my head against the wall.
"Stand up straight." Dean said. I straightened up.
I stood there for quite a while. I could hear Dean moving around. I tried to think of a punishment I thought I deserved. I was already getting a spanking, so what else was there? I didn't really have anything to be taken away. I only had a phone. I had some books, but I hadn't really been reading them lately. I'd only been reading my school books. I watched tv when we were in the motel room, but I didn't really care that much about tv and Dean knew that. I wouldn't care either way if I had it. There really was nothing they could take away from me that would make me sorry that I did something. But I was sorry I did it already.
The door to the room opened and closed. I heard the sound of a shopping bag rustling around, and the low voices of Sam and Dean. The door opened and then closed once more.
"Anna." I turned around. Dean was sitting on the bed again, and he had something in his hands. "Come here."
I walked over, and as I got closer, I realized that what he was holding, was a hairbrush. A wooden hairbrush.
"So, what did you come up with?" he asked when I came to a stop in front of him.
"I really don't know." I said. "I don't have anything for you to take away, and I don't watch tv."
"Then think of something you'll do this next week. Something that'll happen every day."
I thought hard. What didn't I like to do, besides homework, that would please Dean and make me miserable?
"I don't know." I shrugged helplessly.
"How about this. If you don't take responsibility and think of something, I'll think of something for you. And that'll be a spanking every night before bed."
Well, that certainly wasn't what I wanted.
"Umm." I said, trying to think. "I. . . I. . .What if I wrote lines?" I asked.
"And what would those lines say"
"Uhh . . . I won't break rules?"
"How about, I won't put myself or others in danger, and I will follow the rules set forth to keep me safe?"
That was a long line. But it was either that, or spankings every night.
"Yeah."
"Alright. Two hundred times a day, for the next seven days."
"Two hundred?"
"Would you rather it be three?"
"No." I whispered, looking down at my feet.
"Then it's two hundred."
"Okay."
"Now, you understand why you're going to get a spanking? Or do we still need to talk about it?"
"I understand." I mumbled. Dean put his hand under my chin and forced me to look at him.
"I don't think I've ever been so disappointed in you."
Tears welled in my eyes and my throat ached. I don't think I've ever been so disappointed in myself either.
"This spanking isn't going to be the only spanking you get today. You're going to get one tonight, but that'll be for a different reason."
I was getting two spankings? Wow. I really messed up. He couldn't even punish me for it all at once.
Dean placed the brush next to him on the bed, then reached out and pulled me over his lap. I buried my face into the sheet, crying silently as I prepared myself.
