*

Tick. Tick.

Sam's shoelaces tick against the sides of his shoes as he walks. Funny, he never noticed himself making that noise before. All of a sudden, Sam realizes he hasn't been alone, walking on a lonely highway, in a very long time. He can hear his breath moving in his chest and just for fun, takes a big inhale, filling his lungs with the cool night air. It's good and clean and he swears he can taste the rain coming, the air coppery and damp in his mouth.

He clears out his mind with each deep breath and soon he's wuffling in great big gulps of it, moving one foot in front of the other.

Tick. Tick.

He doesn't want to think, doesn't want to feel anymore. Not right now, anyway. Now, he needs to find a place for the night because, even though it's all well and good that he stormed off in a righteous huff, he was an idiot for not getting a good night's sleep before he took off running.

With all the emotional shit that he's been through this evening, he needs some serious shut-eye before he can even begin to think his way around this.

Lights coming behind him seem an answer to a prayer and he turns, sticking out his thumb to try to hitch a ride. It's a huge rig, barreling down on him and he stands well back on the shoulder just in case the driver's asleep or not watching. He hears the brakes squeak and the big truck starts to slow, coming to a gasping stop next to him.

Sam jumps up on the foot board and opens the door, peering in at the driver.

A stout man, blond hair and blonder eyebrows on a beefy red face, stares back at him, pushing up his Yankees baseball cap, "Where you headed?"

"Next town that's got a place to sleep." Sam mutters.

"Hop in. I'll get you there."

*

Dean lays on the bed, arm behind his head, staring up at a cobweb in the corner of the ceiling, watching the little spider spin it with all his might, moving quickly, busily, going nowhere fast.

Lot like his life.

Sometimes, he's amazed by his own ability to fuck things up.

Sam's been gone forty-five minutes now, every single one of them an eternity and Dean's more scared than he's ever been.

He's alone.

God, that's the worst word in the English language, as far as Dean's concerned.

Now, what the hell is he gonna do?

He knew it would happen, that he'd screw up this relationship just like he's screwed up every other one in his life. He could shrug it off, say he wasn't made for anything long-term and that would be partly right. But, he could've worked at this one, for once in his life, and made it be good.

It was already far better than any he'd had before, ever, because he loves Sam, with all his breath and heart and that's the difference. Why couldn't he just accept that Sam loved him back and enjoyed what they were making together. Why did he have to play these stupid games?

Dean doesn't know why he wanted to hurt Sam. When he'd looked into his eyes at the bar back there, it was as if there was a line drawn in the sand between them.

On Sam's side, was love and hot passion whenever he wanted it, guaranteed to make him fat and happy and make hunting a thing of the past 'cause he could totally see just settling down with his brother and being completely content to do so.

On Dean's side was solitude, fear and the sharp edge of the hunt, slender and ravaged and quicksilver, guaranteed to make him die an early violent death as he took out as many evil sons of bitches as he possibly could before they got to him and Sam.

Sam's side would change his life, for better or worse, and suddenly, Dean got cold feet, legs and dick as he stared into his brother's gentle, loving eyes. He was supposed to die violently because he was Dean Winchester. He wasn't supposed to grow old with someone and be fat and happy. Guys like him didn't get the fairy-tale ending and he could hear fate laughing because he even thought he was in the running for it.

He isn't worthy of Sam's love or anyone else's either, and at that moment, he wanted to rip Sam from existence for making him feel so beneath him, so worthless and he felt his face freeze up, felt his mind shut down as he said those three stupid words that cut Sam's heart to the quick, "Go home, Sam."

He hadn't even told Sam the truth because when Sam asked him point-blank about Gina, he'd sidestepped the question and they'd never got back to it.

He needs to tell Sam the truth. Even if it's over and they never see each other again, he owes it to Sam to tell him what happened.

The spider still works furiously, spinning the most intricate web he's ever seen, making a beautiful home for himself in hopes that guests may drop by to stave off the loneliness but not realizing that his only contact with other life will be just before he eats it for dinner. The spider, because of the nature of its existence, must stay alone.

Just like him.

He hears the rain start pattering on the windows, the sky crying like his heart inside. He sighs and picks up his phone.

********************************************

Sam's phone; 2:15 a.m.

"Sammy, it's me. Shit. I wish you woulda picked up. I need to tell you…I wanted to tell you the truth earlier but I couldn't get the words out…"

"I never slept with Gina, Sam."

"I went up to her apartment, ready to get laid and we were kissing and touching each other and I got it up with no problem but when it came time to do the deed, man…I just couldn't. All I could see was your face with that hurt, sad look in your eyes and I couldn't do that to you or to us. I started apologizing to her every which way I could think of and ended up telling her about you and me."

"She told me to get dressed, go find you and straighten stuff out. But, on the way down, I had my own ideas of what I should say to you and we both know how well that worked out."

"Anyway, I wanted you to know the truth. I'm sorry for everything. Can you…can you just come home? I miss you, Sam."

*

Sam's phone: 4:20 a.m.

"Sam, I can't sleep. I wish you'd answer your phone. I really need to talk to you."

"I keep thinking about that spanking, Sam and what you told me. You know, how you feel when you go into that place of yours and how you feel after. You said that it 'wipes the slate clean and all is forgiven' or something like that and you feel 'brand new again.'" I keep thinking how happy you looked right after…how relieved and clear your eyes were and how we were so close for a while."

"I'm thinking about that a lot."

"I want that, too, to go to that place where you went. I want to feel that relief and for the slate to be clean. I want you to forgive me, Sammy."

"Please come home."

*

Sam's phone: 8:30 a.m.

"I missed waking up with you today. My stomach was cold with just my pillow to hug and the bed felt empty and…well, I just hate being alone, I guess. I just wanted you to know that."

*

Sam's phone: 12:10 p.m.

"Hi Sam. I just went by Gina's place for lunch and she told me you dropped by. She said you asked her what happened between her and me and she told you the same thing I did. I wish you would have believed me but I'm glad you know the truth now. "

"Sure wish you'd answer your phone. I'd love to just hear your voice."

"Listen, I'm gonna be gone for a couple of hours. I'll call you when I get back."

"I miss you, man."

*

Sam's phone: 6:00 p.m.

"Sam? It's me. Why won't you answer your fucking phone?"

"I went to see the Chief. You remember him? He's the "Dom" the magicians sent me to, remember, as a joke? Anyway, I scheduled a session with him and just got back…"

"I didn't get to that place, Sammy."

"He used his hands on me but I didn't really feel that much. Guess I got a high tolerance for this sort of thing and he wasn't hitting me nearly as hard as I hit you. I asked him to hit me harder and it hurt a little more but after half an hour, I still didn't reach where you went."

"I told him to stop, that it wasn't working and he started asking me questions about what I was expecting to happen. Then, he explained to me about you and that place you go to. Turns out there's even a name for what you need. It's called Domestic Discipline and most people who practice it are husbands and wives. Yeah, ok, so we always were a little out of the box on stuff…"

"Anyway, the Chief told me the person in authority is the one who sets limits and then if those boundaries are crossed, he enforces the punishment so that the partner understands the consequences of incorrect actions. He gives loving discipline and once the punishment is over, everything is forgiven, forgotten and not brought up again. He said in our case, the person in authority can change as necessary based on the situation."

"Thing is, the people involved have to know each other and care about each other. The Chief told me that's why I couldn't get to that place, because I don't care if I disappoint him. You're the one who matters to me. He said you'd have to be the one to do it, to punish me, in order for me to feel forgiven and be washed clean."

"Sammy, I'm asking you to please…will you help me out?"

"Give me a call, ok?"

*

Sam's phone: 8:10 p.m.

"Hey, Sammy, it's me. I haven't heard from you so I'm thinking that you really meant it and that it's over and you're gone."

"I can't…I'm so sorry, Sam. I totally fucked up everything and I hurt you so bad and I'm just so goddamn sorry about this whole thing. I hope you can forgive me someday."

"I guess I'm gonna leave town tomorrow. There's no point sticking around any longer, especially if you're already gone. Be careful, Sam, ok? Remember everything I taught you."

"I'm gonna go out to get a beer at Gina's. I'll be there tonight. If you feel like seeing me, that's where you can find me."

"I really love you, Sam. Just wanted you to know that."

********************************************

Dean takes another swig of beer, staring dejectedly at the pool table, watching one guy hustle another.

He's been here for almost three hours now and still no sign of Sam. He knows it's over in his gut, he just doesn't want to admit to himself that Sam is really gone for good this time and he's alone, so frigging alone and he doesn't know how he's going to stand it.

Memories flicker through his head of their childhood, the hundreds of flea-bitten motels they stayed at over the years, not many memories of Dad so much as just him and Sam, watching TV, eating Spaghetti-Os and just getting through life together. He'd gotten Sam through bullies, his first kiss, his first time getting laid…

Dean shakes his head. Guess Sam doesn't want him anymore, doesn't want to be in a fucked-up relationship, be around someone who's self-esteem is in the toilet and who's so fucking needy it's not even funny.

He knew Sam wouldn't come. What the hell is he gonna do now? He can't go on alone, no way, he doesn't have that kind of strength and all he wants to do is curl up in a ball and die if he can't have Sam in his life.

He closes his eyes against the sting of tears, swallowing hard to keep them back. He hears a commotion coming from the pool table and opens his eyes to look that way. He sees the two guys throwing punches at each other and starts to stand, to intervene and help but sees the bouncer already there, getting the situation under control.

At the same time, he feels a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back onto the stool. He starts to turn and hears Sam's voice, close to his ear, "Stay still."

He freezes, holding his breath, a tic in his cheek working hard. Sam's other hand moves sensuously down his thigh to rest warmly on his knee.

Sam's breath is hot on his cheek, "You've been making bad choices, Dean. You crossed the line and you need to be punished. That's what I'm going to do to you tonight. After your punishment is over, everything will be forgiven and we won't speak about what you did again. Do you understand?"

Dean closes his eyes and nods, his body trembling with anticipation.

Sam's silky voice continues, stirring the hair around his brother's ear, "Here's what you're going to do now. You're going to finish your beer, pay your tab, say goodbye to Gina and go outside. Get in the car and wait for me. We're going to go back to your motel and I'm going to give you the discipline that you need. Do you understand?"

Dean lowers his head and covers Sam's hand with his own, "Yes."

Sam grips his knee, squeezing it tightly, punishing, "Yes, what?"

A small sob comes out of Dean's chest and his shoulders fall in relief, "Yes, sir."

"That's better. Now move."

*