Iconically S4 Alpha Dean & Broody Sam. Enjoy :)
Dean paced the length of his car. Sam leaned against the hood.
"You told me to teach her the ropes," Dean snarled.
"Yeah," Sam agreed.
"Then you directly contradicted what I told her to do," Dean snapped, "You put her at risk."
"I gave her a job," Sam argued, "How was I supposed to know you told her to stay there?"
"You could have gotten her killed," Dean replied, "Justin was shooting all over the place. Three of his coworkers bled out on that floor. That could have been her. I left her somewhere safe and you…"
Dean trailed off.
"Look," Sam said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I confused her. I'm sorry I put her at risk. But we fixed the problem. Body count is static now. Even if it's higher than we would have liked."
Dean leaned against the hood next to his brother.
"This is why I said we shouldn't bring her," Sam put in.
"Shut it," Dean snapped, "Don't you start that crap with me again. She identified this thing in five freakin' minutes. It would have taken us days. Then we would have gone on a wild goose chase trying to burn the body when that wouldn't have even fixed it. She's the one who solved this. You owe her that acknowledgment."
"Fine. You're right. So what is it you want from me?" Sam asked.
"You don't contradict my orders," Dean said bluntly, "And if you do you don't go off at her for not following."
"Fine," Sam agreed.
And that's when the cops showed up. They wrote it off as a workplace nut job stopped by federal agents. And by that night Sam, Dean, and Ji-a were in Bismarck, North Dakota searching for a hotel. The drive was, tense. Dean and Sam weren't speaking to each other and Dean hadn't gotten a word out of Ji-a since she gave her statement to the police. No matter how hard he'd tried. So he blared Metallica and did his best not to think about it.
They found a hotel and Dean silently stalked into the office, booked a room then handed Sam the keys to the Impala.
"Make yourself scarce," he said, "I'll call when you can come back."
Then he opened the car's back door and offered Ji-a his hand.
They got to the room and dumped their bags. Ji-a sat on the bed while Dean paced.
"What happens now?" She finally asked.
Dean stopped, leaning against the rickety table, and sighed.
"Now I punish you," Dean said, "But first we talk."
"About the lack of clarity in your chain of command?" Ji-a suggested.
"Something like that," Dean agreed, "First things first, I'm not mad at you."
"You're not?" Ji-a looked skeptical.
"You solved the case," Dean said, "And fast. And you did exactly what you were told. I wasn't clear. That isn't your fault."
"So who am I supposed to listen to?" Ji-a asked earnestly.
"You take orders from me," Dean said, "If Sam tells you something that doesn't directly contradict what I instructed? You do it. And if you're in obvious danger and he's getting you out of it? You go along. But otherwise? My word is it."
"Okay," Ji-a agreed, "Did you have this same talk with Sam?"
"I did. Though my language was a lot less forgiving," Dean assured her, "Now undress for me."
And so she did, slipping off her blazer and the ivory blouse she was wearing underneath then taking off her trousers and her socks. The carpet was sticky on her bare feet.
"Over my knee," Dean instructed.
Ji-a complied.
"This bedspread is a biohazard," she noted.
"Stay quiet and we'll be done quick," Dean said, "I'll shower with you after and I promise it'll be fine."
Ji-a took a deep breath.
He tucked an arm under her chest so at least her face wasn't up against the grimy fabric.
"Okay?" He asked.
"Okay," she nodded.
She was still bruised up. And she'd been genuinely confused. Genuinely trying. He wasn't going to go tough with her tonight. He'd debated if he should even be doing this. But she was right about the reasoning behind the whole arrangement. Pain compliance served as a reminder that things could go very wrong very fast. And that required consistency.
Twelve. Dean decided. And not hard. Just enough to drive home his point.
But with the existing bruising already there, he could feel Ji-a start to shake from the pain at number six. He stopped at eight when he felt tears on the arm he had under her chest. He pulled her up so her head was against his chest, guiding her face to force eye contact.
"Good girl," he murmured. He felt a twinge of guilt at the tears. He hadn't meant for that to happen.
"Now, who's orders do you follow?" He asked.
"Yours," Ji-a replied quickly.
"Good girl," Dean murmured, drawing her close and stroking her hair, "You're okay."
She curled closer into him and he moved one hand down to her back.
"You want that shower?" He asked.
"Give me a minute," Ji-a said, "Not sure I'll be able to stay vertical just yet."
"Take all the time you need," Dean assured her, tucking his jacket around her shivering form, "You're okay. You did good. You're gonna learn really quick."
"Promise?" Ji-a looked up at him with big brown eyes.
"Promise," Dean kissed her head.