Dean closed and locked the hotel room door then drew the curtains.
He was eerily calm.
"I get that you panicked," he said, "I get that you feel bad. That doesn't change things."
"I was stupid," Ji-a said, "And I didn't listen and thankfully nothing went wrong. But something has to go wrong, because otherwise how am I supposed to learn?"
"Something like that," Dean said, shrugging off his jacket.
"Clothes off," he instructed, "How banged up are you from last time?"
"Not too bad," Ji-a said, discarding her shoes, her pants and her dress, she noted that the carpet at this motel was cleaner than the last one, "Arnica helped."
Dean nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Please don't put yourself in danger again," Dean said gently, taking her wrist and pulling her over his knee.
"This hotel is cleaner," Ji-a noted.
"Silver linings," he said, "The walls might as well be made of paper. So I need you to stay quiet for me. Okay?"
Ji-a nodded.
She was still bruised up, Dean noted. But nothing too gristly. Most of the dark splotches on her skin had faded from purple to yellow-green. He didn't feel any uncertainty this time. She wasn't confused. She was scared. And making stupid impulse decisions because of fear could get her killed. That point needed reiterating. And after this her body would be reiterating it for a week.
He took off his belt.
"You good?" He asked.
Ji-a nodded.
And the belt cracked across her skin. Thirty. She was shaky and limp by the time he was done. Fight gone right out of her.
"You're okay," he said gently as he pulled her up and tucked her head under his chin, "Good girl. You stayed quiet like I asked."
Ji-a gripped the fabric of his undershirt as she wrapped her arms around him. He felt tears on his chest.
"You're okay," he assured her.
"I'm sorry," Ji-a's voice broke, "I understand. I could've died. I could've endangered you two. I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," Dean rubbed her back gently, "You're okay. Good girl."