Hey y'all! Sorry for such a long delay between updates. If I'm being honest, I lost a little bit of my muse on this story. I've really enjoyed writing it, but sometimes it just gets hard to find the direction I wanted to go with it. Reminder, this is a SPANKING story, so the dynamics between Dean and Emily are that of a spanking/discipline relationship. It doesn't mean she's become a wuss or lost her spark, it just means that she and Dean are settling into their roles and finding their way through the lifestyle they're in. Now Sam and Claire? That's gonna be a whole new ballgame! Here's a chapter for now, if I take a break on this again, feel free to call me on it. It helps me! But I may veer away from Supernatural for a bit and maybe try a Harry Potter fic next.

Sam and Claire were staring each other down in what Claire could only surmise was the library of this impossibly vast bunker. Surrounded by bookshelves, a desk, weird manuscripts and notepads, and way too many pens with caps missing to be healthy, Claire calculated her risk standing here with the taller of the Winchester brother's while behind her the sounds of raised voices and an unmistakable "SMACK" had been heard before Sam had firmly shut the door and turned around to face her. Claire had her arms crossed and her stance wide, the Hunter pose, the work pose, the "I'm not taking your shit" pose, while Sam had the opposite. He was tense, but his stance was friendly, open, clearly he was fighting to contain his anger while she wore hers like a badge of honor.

"You're okay with that, with your brother beating your roommate?" Claire cocked her head back and Sam snorted, a noise that surprised Claire visibly, as it didn't seem natural coming from him.

"Beating? You think that's what that is? Come on, Claire, you know better. Don't play this innocent charade with me, I know what your mom was like. No different from my dad. No different from Dean. What's happening between them, is between them. I think you being on your own changed you, and I can't say it was for the better. Want to talk about it?" He folded his long, lean body into a chair sitting in front of the desk, surveying her with a look that clearly said 'sit down if you know what's good for you.'

Did Claire know what was good for her? Probably not. She took a step backwards, shaking her head emphatically. "No, Sam, I most certainly do not want to discuss anything with you, but I reckon you think that you're gonna be able to shove all this macho bravado on me without a fight, and I know you ain't that dumb." Another step backwards, her eyes trained on his, exit firmly in the back of her mind.

Sam held up his hands again, another show of peace and she paused. "Look, I'm not trying to force anything on you. Dean and I are doing the best we can in the situation we were forced into. Emily's a great girl, she's special, and she's Dean's. She knows that, regardless of what she may have told you, and she accepts it. You've gotta get used to it if you're gonna last around here. We are trained Hunter's. You are too. Emily wasn't. She needed a lot of help and she needed guidance, and now? She's thriving here. So you've got options now too, Claire. The same ones she had. You're stuck with us whether you like it or not, but not in the way that Emily was, you're already trained, you already know our code. We don't stray from it. If you're scared of a few measly spanks, then you aren't as tough as you're pretending to be right now. And look, if you don't want to get spanked? It's easy. Don't fuck up. Don't do stupid shit. Don't mouth off to the biggest hot head in the house."

Claire grimaced at his words, but stayed in place. It was true that she was no stranger to discipline in the hunting world. Her mom had been famous for it. But she wasn't going back to that. Not now and not ever. When she'd broken away and formed her own band of Hunter's, the only code they lived by was "do the job and get out." None of them had ever thought of raising a hand to any of the other's and that was how she liked it. Threats didn't wield results in Claire's world, but fear did. "I am not going back to that lifestyle, Sam. I hated it. I was suffocating there. I became a much better hunter the second I was out of that, I trained harder and I fought more."

"And your entire group died." Sam's voice was flat, so much so that Claire flinched at the hardness in it. "Whether you ever want to admit it to yourself, that's up to you, but the fact is that you guys were unprepared for the danger you were facing and you suffered for it. You didn't have a plan, you didn't have a leader, you didn't have any discipline among yourselves. We do. We don't make mistakes like that because we don't need to lose anymore Hunter's. And whether you like it or not, you're here now. And you're going to be a better hunter because that's what we expect out of you. And if you mess up, you're gonna get the same thing Emily gets when she makes stupid choices, the same thing both Dean and I got when we made stupid choices."

"Oh so I can spank you then?" Claire's tone was so sassy that Sam almost wanted to laugh, but he couldn't let his guard down, not yet. So he grinned at her, the boyish face he'd always sported the picture of amusement.

"No. Because in this group, we have leaders. That's Dean and that's me. You haven't earned that for yourself, and if the show with Ezreil taught us anything, it's that you're probably not gonna be there for awhile."

He wasn't trying to be condescending, but Claire lost it at that, her anger boiling over to a point she couldn't handle, her pale face reddening, her fists clenching. "Fuck. You." She spat, so venomously that for a moment it reminded Sam of that first night with Emily, the anger she had held inside of her. "You ain't some high and mighty lord, you ain't the king of the hunter's, you ain't shit. You and your brother are nothin' but a bunch of women beater's getting your rocks off bossing everybody around. That ain't gonna work with me. I don't have to stick around, I ain't branded to you, you ain't my daddy."

She was so lost in her tirade that she barely registered that Sam was no longer sitting down, barely registered that he was slowly stalking towards her until he was right in her face and she was now staring up into an expression just as angry as she felt. "I ain't your daddy," he quietly ground out, his hand snaking out to catch her wrist before she had time to react. "But I can guarantee if I was, you'd think twice about what you just said to me."

Claire pulled back against him, her own anger still not dissipated, and before she realized what she was doing, she had turned on her fight mode and deftly spun herself under his arm, breaking the grasp he had on her wrist before she lifted her foot to slam into his shin, adopting a fighting pose that Sam was all too familiar with. She had been right, she wasn't Emily, and Sam should've been prepared for it, but he wasn't. It took him too long to react and by that time he was left with a throbbing leg. Luckily his senses caught up and he blocked the fist she sent careening his way with an easy catch, his hand fitting easily around her whole fist where he squeezed tightly, nonyielding. She tried to send her other fist into him, but he caught it too, and suddenly Claire was stuck. She raised her foot again to kick at his kneecap, but Sam was faster, with deadly accuracy he swept his leg beneath her's , making her lose her balance and without missing a beat, he'd released her fists and scooped her up over his shoulder, his arm tightly pinning her legs down, even as she regained her senses and beat at his back hard. He grunted and landed a stunning slap to her exposed backside, which she shrieked like a banshee at.

Sam had to get this under control. He knew he was losing this battle of wills quickly and until he had her subdued, she wasn't going to let up. She let out a string of colorful curses, punctuated by a sharp jab into his side that made him groan. "Fuck Claire! KNOCK IT OFF!" His voice boomed throughout the library but she didn't stop, and it wasn't until Sam had managed to locate the chair he'd been occupying earlier, he had to endure two more punches to his back that were sure to be bruises in the morning. Without hesitation, he flung her back to the ground and in no time at all had her pinned over one knee as he sat in one fluid motion. He pinned her legs immediately under his free one, and anticipating the reach back she was going to do, easily caught the fist she pushed back and shoved it beneath her stomach between her flat abs and his knee, effectively putting her out of use. She screeched again, and blonde hair flew as she twisted and fought tooth and nail, but Sam merely grit his teeth and raised his free hand, letting it fly against her sweatpant covered backside with a loud WHAP!

Again he struck, over and over across her vulnerable backside, hard and unyielding slaps that would've already had Emily bawling her eyes out, but Claire wasn't Emily, Claire had been spanked before and she was a fighter. She howled in rage, and called him every derogatory name she could think of and he said nothing as he continued the onslaught of spanks on her, until he could feel her tiring out. She was not crying, to her credit, but her body was so tense and so stiff, Sam knew that this wasn't getting him anywhere, it was completely ineffective if she was shutting down against him, so he paused. His hand came to rest on her backside, the heat already radiating from beneath her sweats, and he felt her flinch. "Are you ready to listen?"

"Fuck you Sam Winchester! You fucking let me up, you stupid, arrogant sonuvabitch!" Sam sighed, and instead of resuming the spanking, he decided to get on her level. He reached down and took a fistful of her long blonde hair in his hand, roughly forcing her head up so that she had no choice but to listen.

"No." He was getting angry. "No, Claire, you've had this coming since the second you walked into Ezreil's trap. You know you deserve it, you know you've been begging for one of us to do it since you got here. You wanted to piss me off? Congratulations, you've succeeded." He roughly let her go and her head dropped, though the tension didn't leave her body. His fingers found the waistband of her pants and he slowly peeled them down, taking no satisfaction in the frantic, horrified yelp she gave as he did so.

"No! No! Stop! Okay you made your point! Stop it!" But he didn't. Hardened determination coursed through his veins as he finished dragging them down, leaving her clad in only a thin pair of cheekies, her bottom, the skin as pale as it was on her face, already a bright, splotchy red.

"I didn't, though, did I? You've needed this. You deserve this. Take it like a Hunter and stop acting like a spoiled brat." Although she continued to struggle, he could hear the soft sound of a sniffle in there and immediately he began the spanking of her newly bared skin. She yelped and squealed and screeched at each and every swat she was given, her skin coloring beautifully under his hand. So different from Emily, who's skin was tan, her bottom round and plump and smooth, Claire's skin was so white, her bottom small and toned, the muscles in her thighs straining as he laid down spank after spank. He could see she was reaching her breaking point, her sniffles were louder now, her protesting beginning to wane into hoarseness, her body tiring. He continued on, spanking and swatting, moving up and down from her bottom to her thighs and back up, the red just deepening and deepening with each passing moment until suddenly she was crying, and limp, and he finally relented. He patted her glowing, red globes gently, as she continued to cry into her hands until he finally was able to pull her up and she stepped away from him.

So unlike Emily, who usually sought comfort after a spanking like that, Claire had yanked up her pants and was now across the room glaring at him just as before. He sighed again. He didn't have it him for round two, but he knew he couldn't just let her leave the way she was now, a ball of anger and rage and sadness.

"Claire, look," he spoke softly, but her eyes remained hard and without waiting for him to finish, she had turned on her heel and stalked from the library, slamming the door of it behind her. Sam stood, feeling strange. Guilty. Angry. Sad, even. Claire wasn't going to be easy, and although Sam sometimes enoyed a nice little fight, this one was leaving him feeling hollow and unfinished. Deciding he needed to seek out some counsel from his older brother, he also exited the library, pausing outside of Claire's closed door where he could just barely make out the sounds of quiet sobbing.

"Fuck." He muttered to himself, moving away from it before he did something he would regret; like go in there.