Washing Away the Lies and Reconnecting

Hey everyone! I'm official back with the full intention of continuing. With all the reviews and comments I've been getting lately, I just couldn't leave you all hanging. There is a lot more to this story and I'm so pleased to hear that ya'll are still interested.

Welcome new readers and followers! – Please heed to my warnings pertaining to this story.

Author's note: Please be aware, if you want or are expecting a specific reply from me, I would encourage you to PM me and I promise to do my best to get back to you as soon as I can.

In light of some messages I've received, I think it's important to point out the common misconception that authors agree with everything their characters do and say. I'm sure most of you are aware that is not the case. Please, don't assume my personal convictions are a direct correlation with everything you read.

Warnings: A minor (13-year-old) gets her mouth washed out with soap as a disciplinary punishment in this chapter for lying. There is talk of disciplinary spanking and swearing occurs. As always, if you think this will offend you, trigger you, or put you off in any way, I advise you not to read. Thank you.


Dressed in the lose comfort of her well-worn denim overalls, Ellie halted her sturdy brown boots just outside the threshold of the hotel bathroom. Warm chocolate locks, weaved into two loose braids, dangled just few inches past the teen's slender shoulder line, with her oversized navy zip-up draping loosely against her petite build in the casual grunge-style practicality she had naturally come to adopt as a Hunter's kid.

Along with the familiar rich aroma of cheap black coffee to comfort her senses, Ellie noted, with a touch of relief, that all the muddied evidence of her crazy endeavor had been cleared away. From the mud-crusted bolt cutters and jeans to the infamous Grimoire. Everything had been taken out of sight or put back in its proper place, leaving no trace of her shameful misdeeds or the unfortunate occurrences of last night. The only shred of evidence of the whole endeavor was the pestering dull ache that still throbbed beneath the denim pockets of her lose overalls.

Casually leaning his denim backside against the black countertop by the kitchen sink, Dean, immediately, cast his attention towards the motionless teenager. Without the obstructing shadow of her navy cap concealing her face, Dean's attentive eyes were able to clearly capture the pensive frown that etched softly against her careworn expression. With her russet eyes rounded with an expressive innocence, along with her lose denim overalls and dangling chocolate braids adding to her childlike appearance, there was this unhindered and sincere youthfulness that seemed to naturally emanate from the little girl making her, fittingly, appear like the young thirteen-year-old she was. With no stoic mask of trying to appear grown and tough, to Dean, she simply looked like Ellie, and while he would prefer a smile with that regained sincerity, he was fully aware this wasn't the time to be sipping on sunshine. He still had a promise to fulfill and while he wasn't all that enthusiastic about following up on his word, his determination and care for her ran too deep to just cop out of the responsibility for the simple and selfish reason that he, personally, didn't 'want' to.

Feeling his broad chest rise and fall into a weighted sigh, the man drifted his attention away from her and brought the short white coffee mug to his lips taking a hardy sip. With a casual and unbothered slack to his posture, Dean waited patiently, but attentively as the stalling little teen went about her task of packing her bags, at a deliberately slowed pace, on the other side of the decretive panel.

As soon as he heard the indication of the zipper to her duffle bag draw to a halt, Dean turned his attention back to the teen who sat crouched in front of her bags seeming to pause in her squatted position in a cautious manner. It was no secret to the attentive Hunter that she was dragging her feet this morning as she was, undoubtably, dreading what he had promised her.

"Ellie." Dean called in a direct, but noticeably firm manner causing Ellie to briefly close her eyes feeling the anticipated doom crash over her like a bucket of cold water.

"Come on, kiddo, let's get this over with." Dean announced as he pushed his denim backside off the counter and set his coffee mug on the cleared pale-yellow table top before marching in a direct path towards the small bathroom, appearing far too eager and decisive for Ellie's dreading nerves.

Although there was a smidge of a childlike hope that the man would somehow forget about his promise to wash her mouth for her lies this morning, that far-reaching dare for optimism was crushed with just the single utterance of her name.

Reluctant limbs pulled against her as she trailed her heavy boots behind Dean until he halted in front of the old pedestal sink. With his broad back to her, the man's bare forearm pulled from his side and pointed a directing finger to the closed toilet seat to the right of his toned build, silently instructing her to sit down.

With her face muscles contorting into a brief wince, Ellie forced herself to do as she was told and planted her rearend onto the hard porcelain lid, feeling the obstructive knot that she held in the back of her throat expand. A subtle squint of her almond brown eyes was the only indication of the young girl's lingering soreness that still infringed on the lower portion of her seat. An annoying, but, overall, mild discomfort, that reminded her of exactly why she found herself sitting on a toilet seat about to get her mouth washed out in the first place.

A pricking anxiety of anticipated dread sparked against her nerves as her attentive eyes watched Dean tear open the cheap white packaging of the slim travel size bar of soap the hotel, hospitably, provided. In printed blue lettering it was simply labeled 'fresh scent' and Ellie knew, with no fond experience, it was going to taste anything, but 'fresh'.

Without looking over at Ellie's seated frame to the right of him, Dean went about the task of preparing the soap in a methodically swift, but assured manner seeming keen on getting the unpleasant 'chore' over with. With his sharp masculine profile relaxed in a neutrally poised expression, he tossed the plastic white packaging into the small trash can in between the pedestal sink and the toilet before twisting the old cross knob labeled 'hot' on which, immediately, had the teen's lips thin into a discontented pout. If having to taste the soap wasn't bad enough, it seemed she was going to taste it warm. Apparently, being of comforted notion that one couldn't possibly make soap taste any more disgusting than it already was, was a gravely foolish oversight on her part. Leave it to Dean Winchester to make a sucky punishment suck even more.

The man ran the thin rectangular bar of white soap under the warm stream of water, twisting and rubbing the bar within his large calloused palms as he worked to build up a decent lather of suds. Once he felt like the bar had a good layer of soggy froth gathered over the slippery surface, the man shut off the water.

With the slender sopping bar pinched between his strong fingers, he directed his attention to the anxious little girl sitting on the toilet.

"Alright, I want you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue, young lady." Dean instructed, his guttural tone rumbling out deep and calm as he pinned her with a serious and rigid regard which, unfortunately for Ellie, conveyed very little sympathy.

"And you keep that tongue out until I tell you otherwise." The Hunter saw fit to add with a harder edge to his firm tone, indicating that he expected her to hold the position until he declared it over.

Ellie face wilted into a chagrined pout of hesitation as she eyed the wet sudsy block of soap gripped between the man's strong fingers in disgust. It had a significant layer of tiny bubbles accumulated all around it looking severely uninviting to her sensitive palate. A droplet of cloudy water trickled off the corner of the saturated white block onto the linoleum tile floor below which had Ellie scrapping the top of her teeth along the length of her tongue feeling an annoying amount of saliva beginning to build up in her mouth as she fretfully recalled just how awful cheap soap tasted.

"D-Dean, I-I'm sorry." Ellie found herself apologizing in a meek tone as she glanced up at him. Her russet irises glinting with a childlike hope for him to just forget the whole thing.

While, in Ellie's calculations, the licking last night was more than sufficient as her ass was still sore, it would seem her excessive scheming and lying about the whole thing was just too extreme and, according to Dean, overtly 'dangerous', that it deserved a separate consequence all on its own.

"I'm sure you are, kid." Dean agreed with a brisk nob of his head, no doubt she was remorseful for everything at this point, but that did not change the consequences nor did it falter his decision to stick to his word.

"Now, stick out that tongue so we can get this over with." Although Dean's voice was manageably calm and even in his deliverance, there was this edge of decisive firmness to it that all, but told Ellie it was happening and no amount of 'I'm sorry's' was going to get her out of what was promised.

Unable to stop the childish whine of self-pity and embarrassment that hummed against her vocal cords, Ellie, grudgingly, just bit the bullet and opened her mouth wide, sliding her tongue slowly outwards to hang down over her rounded chin in the presenting manner that Dean wanted, all the while keeping her eyes downcast and purposely averted from the man's face.

It was then, the potent regret she held in her petite chest began to swell and intensify, knowing if she just would've 'woman-ed up' and confessed when she had the chance, she might have avoided this additional reprimand all together and brought this whole 'suck fest' to a close, but the fact remained that she didn't, and now she was reaping the consequence to persist in her lies.

Wasting no time, Dean brought the warm lathered bar of soap to the girl's displayed tongue and began to rub the saturated sudsy block of 'fresh scent' over the center portion of the moist pink muscle. Going about the unpleasant task with a stoic frown embedded into his features, in a circular motion, the man worked to create a white slippery film that coated the tiny ridges of her tongue, disturbing an unpleasant bitter and metallic tang across her sensitive tastebuds.

Ellie's expression, immediately, screwed into a bothered frown of disgust. The warm nasty taste getting progressively fouler with every passing second, as Dean alternated between a circular motion and dragging the slippery bar up and down the length of her tongue, thoroughly coating every corner of her palate with the foamy concoction of saliva and cheap soap.

A few droplets of the soapy mixed saliva dripped off the tip of her protruding tongue and down onto her denim covered thigh. Feeling her limbs stiffened and her eyes squeezed shut in growing distress, Ellie began to squirm and shift her achy backside against the porcelain lid in fidgety discomfort as she strained to push her tongue out further in a useless attempt to prevent the soap from reaching the untouched corners of her mouth. However, as the excess saliva began to build up in her mouth, the abundance of sudsy foam began to slide against the inner corners of her opened mouth and down the back of her throat, causing her gag reflux to hack out a distressed choke as a froth of bubbles and saliva gathered in the back of her gullet. A watery moan of discomposure hummed in the back of Ellie's froth filled throat as she patted her palms against the curved edge of the porcelain lid on either side of her tense frame in agitated impatience, trying desperately not to swallow.

Finishing his slow deliberate count of sixty seconds in his head, Dean stopped coating her tongue with the soapy film, but to Ellie's grave chagrin, the man did not pull the bar off her tongue like she hopefully anticipated.

"Bite down." Dean's guttural vocals calmly asserted.

As soon as the dreaded command hit her ears, Ellie's heart plummeted in disappointment as her desperate need to spit and rise was put on further hold.

With her features fixed into a dismayed frown, Ellie, reluctantly, dragged her soap-coated tongue back into her mouth as she gently clamped her teeth around the center of the thin wet bar Dean had rested on tongue.

Once he was sure her teeth were secured around the bar, Dean released his wet soapy fingers and calmly moved to grab a hold of the white scratchy hand towel from the chrome ring next to the worn old mirror. Briskly wiping off the wet soapy residue from his fingers, Dean ran the towel down the length of his bare forearm where a trail of wet soap slid all the way down to his elbow where his army green button up was gathered. After hanging the towel back up, the man rooted himself into a solid stance as crossed his bare forearms over his broad chest and stared down at the little girl with a stoic authority as he began to mundanely counted to another sixty seconds in his head, while simultaneously recalling every damaging lie, sneaky manipulation, and deceptive ruse the little girl preformed to disturbing perfection in the last two days.

As her red tinted lips pressed around slim complimentary block of soap that awkwardly jutted half way out of her mouth, much to Ellie's increasing dismay, her salivary glands naturally began to produce an excessive amount of saliva, seeming to further coat her entire oral cavity with the horrid bitter taste of 'fresh scent'. And to make matters worse, automatic tears began to welling up under the rims of her eyes, not just because of the unpalatable taste bringing a reflex of tears to the surface, but the gut-turning shame of her lies and manipulations towards them. Although there was no small amount of teenage resentment she harbored toward the man responsible for filling her mouth with warm bubbles, Ellie was not blinded by her bitterness. She was fully aware as to why she was getting her mouth washed out and it wasn't because of just a few innocent whites lies here and there, a slip of a swear word, or disrespectful lip. It was for deliberate deceit and scheming manipulation in the midst of endangering herself and others. Not something to take lightly, and the shrewd little girl's opened conscience was astutely aware of it.

Daring to take a brief, abashed, glance up at Dean, Ellie cast her dewy eyes up at him, but the unyielding ridges etched into the man's stern expression had Ellie dipping her head back down immediately. Embarrassment bled against her swelling chest as she pictured his overhead view of her. She knew she looked utterly ridiculous with the thin bar of motel soap jutting halfway out of her mouth. While the stubborn and enduring part of Ellie wanted to be brave and take her punishment with a front of stoic indifference and grit, the truth of the matter was, after getting her ass handed to her last night, along with the draining and humbling shame of everything she had done, the teenager just didn't have it in her to take it with a stiff upper lip. Besides, no one, no matter how tough they were, could appear bold and dignified sitting on top of a toilet with soap clamped between their teeth.

Hanging her head low and drooping her posture into a hunched and shrinking manner, Ellie cupped her palms against the rounded porcelain seat on either side of her slender frame and concentrated on the faded linoleum flooring under Dean's brown lace-up boot as she attempted to ride out the punishment as best she could. Her two warm chocolate brown braids dangled away from her shoulders as a few suppressed gags sputtered past her lips from around the thin block, causing the suds to gurgle unpleasantly against her gullet.

"Alright." Dean finally declared in a firm even tone after completing his slow and careful count.

Unable to hide one ounce of the fact that she was desperate for relief, Ellie jerked her head up eagerly at him, her dewy brown eyes wide with an expressive and pleading impatience.

Unfolding his bare forearms from his broad chest, Dean took a step towards her and reached down pinching the jutted soap, sticking out of her mouth, in between his fingers. Ellie, immediately, slackened her jaw and opened her mouth as Dean removed the slimy block of soap from between her teeth.

Sitting there with her mouth gaped open and her soapy tongue somewhat pushed outwards, she anxiously watched Dean toss the slimy white bar into the trash can, which she noted had a few small invitations from where her teeth had natural embedded.

A tiny chip of soap hung slightly from her front tooth as she leaned her posture forward and hovered her aching bottom off the porcelain seat in an eager manner. Keeping her eyes attentively fixed on the pedestal sink, Ellie impatiently, but obediently waited for permission to spit out the nasty froth concoction wading in the back of her throat.

"Go ahead and rinse." Dean instructed gesturing with an idly wave of his arm towards the pedestal sink shifting his blocking frame to the side to get out of her direct path.

Not wasting a single second, Ellie shot up from the toilet seat and rushed over to the sink. Bending down over the old basin and gripping the sides, she urgently spat out the thick mixture of tainted saliva, mucus, and slimy suds. A sticky strand of soapy drool that clung against her bottom lip and trailed down to the bottom of the basin, caused Ellie to urgently spit again, moaning out a disgusted 'ew-ah'. After plucking the tiny chip of soap from the edge of her front tooth, Ellie turned on the cool water and eagerly sucked in a large cleansing mouthful of cold water. Watering down the bitter suds in her mouth, Ellie spat the tainted concoction into the old basin. The teen rinsed and repeated two more times before Dean's black Smith and Wesson watch, that was wrapped distinctly around his wrist, caught into her sight. Ellie watched as his strong fingers turned the cross nob briskly cutting off the water. A wordless, but clear indication that she was to be done rinsing and whatever leftover taste that linger she would have to endure until her saliva naturally cleansed it away.

After wiping her mouth with the scratchy white hand towel and hanging it back up in its place, Ellie tentatively turned towards Dean who stood waiting behind her, his solid six-foot build blocking the opened door.

Feeling the humbling effects of the punishment full force, Ellie felt her limbs shrink inwards in an abashed manner, but not unaccompanied by a slight affronted pout that tugged at the ends of her lips.

"I don't have to tell you that the insane lengths you went to to lie to us was extremely out of line, kid. If it wasn't bad enough that you showed an insane amount of disrespect towards us by sneaking around behind our backs and lying straight to our faces, you forcing yourself to throw up so you could scheme your way into getting what you want went beyond crossing the line in my book, young lady. And if I hadn't taken my belt off last night, you'd be getting it, and damn good, just for that alone." Dean pressed laying it out straight for the kid with a clear warning that manipulative lying was just as bad as disobeying a direct order with the consequences measuring the same weight.

While he didn't enjoy taring her a new one, especially after he gave her one hell of a spanking last night, and humbling her wasn't a pleasant responsibility by any means, the fact remained that he had a serious point to make that regarded her survival.

It didn't just sound bad the way he put. It sounded downright disgraceful because, all and all, it was disgraceful and, rightfully, struck a chord with Ellie's receptive and humbled conscience, effectively intensifying the motive within her to cut the constant bullshit she fed them. Cause right about now, honesty was looking pretty damn good as opposed to the alternative. Not just in terms of the punishment she could expect, but a stain on her character. Being regarded as a sneaky, pint-sized, con-artist was not something Ellie strived for.

"I'm not going to mince words here, kid. You lying to us is dangerous. Period. I don't give a rat's ass what your reason is for it. I cannot fully protect you and keep you safe, if I can't trust damn thing that comes out of that mouth of yours." Dean bluntly declared indicating that trust was a direct link to his ability to keeping her breathing and jeopardizing that in anyway was simply inexcusable and something he had no intention of stomaching.

"Having the integrity and guts to be honest when it counts, no matter how 'uncomfortable' it maybe, will always be the better choice. Continuing to lie, scheme, and work your way around your problems will get you a hell of a lot more than just a sore ass and the nasty taste of soap in your mouth, kid. When there comes a time when you truly need to believed, it won't make a bit of difference if you are telling the truth or not, if you continue to dish out bullshit and prove your word doesn't mean jack, people will not trust you. I sure as hell won't. So, next time you better damn well think, long and hard, before taking Sam and I for another ride, cause I'll tell you right now, kid, I will not take it nearly as well as I am now. Do you understand me?" Dean marked heavily in a forcefully serious manner, hell bent on emphasize his point on how direly important it was for her to heed to his guidance and orders and if that wasn't enough, he would resort to getting as tough as he needed to be to keep her breathing.

"Yes, sir. I'm-I'm really sorry. I-I never meant for it to go so far, honest, I never meant…I mean, I never wanted to..." Ellie apologized genuinely ashamed as she attempted to explain, once again, that her intentions were good and her goal never was to cause so much damage, but the emotional impact of the man's forceful words had her adolescent mind whirling, making her fumble over her words, bringing her to sorrowful realization that no matter what she said, she could never make it sound right because it, simply, wasn't right. Her scheming and lying to them was grievously wrong, full stop, and no amount of excuses or desperate attempts to lessen it was going to change that fact. She, truly, had nothing to stand on and it was useless to pretend otherwise.

Keeping her head dipped down, Ellie fidgeted with her fingers as she cast her attention off to the side, a pensive frown of deflated criticism crinkled against her brow as her adolescent mind worked to find an alternative outcome to all this that would've made it all better.

"If-If I would've just backed you up in that basement then maybe none of this would have happened. I should've just saved you when I had the chance, I should've…" Ellie self-criticized, her dismayed voice cracking with a regretful frustration as she openly spoke her inner thoughts aloud.

In light of her raw and humbled state, Ellie found the burden of her failures that night resurface against sensitive skin, pinning that 'folly' as her ultimate downfall that led her down this damaging and needless path of misdeeds and stupidity.

The compelling concept that if she had just saved Dean the 'right' way, the honorable way, the Hunter's way, when she had the opportunity and had not cowardly hesitated that night, then she might have spared herself and them all this unnecessary grief. Had she saved Dean, the desperation that set her on this drastic path never would have been triggered. She never would have even thought of using black magic, she never would have schemed a tangle of lies and resorted to all those stupid and dangerous decisions. Thus, she wouldn't have gotten her ass spanked, her mouth washed out, and she wouldn't have let them down if she would've just had the balls to do what she was capable of that night.

Despite the serious flaws in her tailored logic, as she completely disregarded the fact that, she could've gotten hurt or killed herself by rushing into that basement against orders, Ellie's young mind, desperate for relief, just couldn't seem to see past the positive and comforting outcome of her possibly saving his life. The scary reality of it all being out of her adolescent hands and there was not a damn thing she could've done in that situation was a concept the teen did not want to accept as it left her with the misguided feeling of being as useless as a burdensome bag of rocks on the Hunters backs.

When it came to the only thing that truly mattered in this terrifying word, the lives of her loved ones, she was to sit on the side lines, like a good little coward, with her hands tied? It was a horrendous notion that Ellie sought to reject.

Despite Sam's assuring and confident words echoing in the back of her mind insisting that she did everything right in that situation by not rushing into the basement half-cocked, Ellie couldn't seem to let go of the comforting belief that she could've been the hero that night and made everything right. And if that had come to pass, she would've taken her licking for going against orders with her head held high, no matter how much it hurt.

"Woah, woah, woah, hold it there, kiddo. Where in the hell did that come from?" Dean demanded flabbergasted by the girl's outrageously misguided thinking; a bit taken back by what was burdening her mind in this moment. From Dean's perspective, it seemed to come out of left field and he was not only surprised by it, but boarder-lining on outraged and had a mind to knock her off the foolish notion of playing the reckless hero immediately.

"You saving me, is never in the equation, young lady. You will never put your life at risk to 'save' mine on a Hunt or any other time. Ever. You need to get it into that stubborn head of yours, little girl, that you are a child and my life is not, and never will be, your responsibility. You are not a grown Hunter with the experience to make calls like that. You got that?" Dean demanded sternly with a heaviness weighing on his tone as he compelled her to see herself as the child she was. There was an insulting and offensive element in her skewed thinking that clashed against man's rigid mentality. The concept that a little girl, a child of thirteen, felt the need to protect him and risk her young life for his was an outrageous and severely inappropriate outlook that went against his purpose and responsibilities as a Hunter and a man.

Ellie's dewy brown eyes, glinting with a childlike vulnerability, stared up at the Hunter's serious countenance, unable to stop the two fresh tears that dripped down her rosy freckled cheeks.

"Yes, sir." Ellie agreed respectfully with her bottom lip trembling feebly as she worked hard to get her reeling emotions under control. While she understood she was just a kid and Dean was the man calling the shots, she found it damn near impossible to let go of the idea that she was to be a helplessly, useless, 'loser', if the time ever presented itself to save the 'experienced adults' she cared about. They were granted the privilege of saving their loved ones, but she was not, simply on account of her age and because Dean 'said so'. A very hard pill to swallow from Ellie's teenage perspective, going against the deeply instilled and hard teachings of her 'Hunter's kid upbringing' that ingrained a sense of sacrifice and duty for others in peril. Of course, she would never go back to such extremes as looking into the witchcraft again or resorting to manipulative methods, she got that message loud and clear, but in a basement, with a Rawhead, wasn't all that unreasonable, right? Any Hunter worth their salt would back up their fellow Hunters and loved ones. Isn't that what they were taught? Her precious 'kid status', held little weight in the grand scheme of things, when people's lives were at risk. She had the trained skills and ability to make a difference and her life was not any more important than theirs.

"But-But your life matters too, ya know. Hunters deserve to live and be saved just like everyone else." Ellie declared bravely with conviction as her unsteady vocals cracked against her raw throat.

Anxiety pickled at her sensitive nerves for rebutting the man who just punished her a few minutes ago, but her need to be heard far exceeded her humbled state.

An open hopefulness glimmered within Ellie's brown iris as her pleading gaze studied the man's face, desperately and vulnerably, searching for a sign that he held a speck of understanding to her plight that Hunter's lives, which included Dean's life, Sam's life, and her uncle's life, were all worthy of her efforts and ability to try, regardless of her young age.

"Not at the expense of yours." Dean countered unwearyingly firm without missing a single beat, fully aware that she was implying herself as the 'heroic savor' and, in turn, would put her ass in the line of fire to 'save' them and Dean, who cared for her far too much for the kid, was not inclined to accept that, not for a single second. While he was in obvious agreeance that Hunters were worthy of life, Dean could, ultimately, read between the lines and implications the little wayward teen was communicating. She wanted recognition and acceptance that there were times where she was justified in putting her ass on the line to 'save' him, Sam, her uncle, and other Hunters, but, no matter how much she desperately wished it, she wasn't going to get it. Not from Dean.

Ellie felt like all the precious and hopeful wind she held in her lungs had been knocked out of her like a swift punch to the gut. Practically gasping in dismay, the young teenager's face revealingly contorted into a horrified expression of dejection, looking as though her little heart had just been broken in two. Ellie, immediately, dipped her head down in deflated despair as she attempted to hide the pain she just vulnerably flaunted in front of the hard Hunter.

The hardness within the man's eyes softened a touch feeling his features wilt down in weariness as his heart suddenly began to feel gravely heavy. The man closed his eyes and breathed out steading sigh through his nostrils before opening them again to regain his composure. It was as if he had just told the kid, he drowned puppies for a living, rather than just asserting that she take her safety seriously and not risk her life. While there was an unfair and self-serving annoyance that accompanied his heavy-heart for the push back she had against such a straightforward, black and white, concept, being a Hunter's kid himself once he, ultimately, understood the fear and pain behind her reckless mindset.

"Look, kid, I know how my story's gonna end that's just a fact of a Hunter's life that I've come to terms with a long time ago. But you? If I have any say it in it, and I damn well do, you are gonna live a long healthy life and die of old age. And you sure as hell are going to stop risking your life on these dangerous, idiotic, whims. Do you understand me? Do I make myself clear?" Dean demanded, his stern voice hard and confidant as he asserted his God-given right as a man and as a Hunter, to protect the little wayward teen he cared a hell of a lot about.

The man wasn't going to indulge her with a useless debate and give her a single opportunity to think there was any other alternative, but to heed to her safety and accept the fact that her young life trumped his by a large margin. He wasn't going to sugarcoat the cold hard reality and give her a falsified hope that it was something that it wasn't. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't fair and it sure as hell wasn't something a young girl of thirteen should have to face, but she did and there was not a damn thing that Dean was willing to compromise on. And if that made him a selfish, insensitive, hard-ass, Dean would gladly accept that tile if it meant, in the end, the little teen would survive.

Ellie tilted her head back up to look at the man nodding her understanding dutifully as she felt her bottom lip jut out and tremble.

"Yes, sir." Ellie acknowledged meekly in a deflated tone, being commendably respectful and mindful of the Hunter she was talking to. While there was no small amount of appreciation in his obvious unyielding care for her, she couldn't help, but feel a heavy disheartening and dissatisfaction weigh down against her core as the familiar and natural fear of idly sitting by, like a useless nothing, while those she cared about risked their lives, consumed her ever-fretful young mind. It was unfair, there was no getting around it, and Ellie found herself impatient to grow up so she would be allowed the 'privileges' adult Hunters were granted and ease the restrictive burdens of a being an 'overprotected' kid. A woeful despairing feeling sunk into her gut as she was forced to look at the reality of being a Hunter's kid just the way it was, and it was nothing short of painful.

Dean sighed out a heavy waft of air through his nostrils, finding the burdens of everything he was holding on his shoulders to become overbearingly heavy, but like always, the man pushed them down deep into his heart. Without allowing himself the selfish indulgence of bitching and moaning about the hand he was delt, he simply accepted them with a tough masculine endurance.

"Alright, gather your stuff. We're leaving in ten." Dean declared briskly before abruptly walking out of the bathroom and marching out the motel room to pack of the Impala eager for moment's peace to himself.

The abrupt and cold exit of the man hurt somewhat as she was left with not even a pat on the back or 'head up, kiddo' encouragement, but Ellie understood it and, frankly, she craved some space from the gruff Hunter herself.

With a woeful sniffle, Ellie emerged from the bathroom sheepishly as she spotted Sam sitting at the kitchen table with a small white coffee mug resting on the yellow table top in his grip, making Ellie feel instantly awkward as the man, undoubtably, heard everything that transpired in the bathroom.

Already having her stuff packed and gathered for the road, Ellie found herself walking over to the kitchen table and settling her backside into the seat next to Sam.

Ellie didn't know what prompted her boldness to invaded the man's company so swiftly and assuredly, but, regardless, found herself opening up to trust the man with her disheveled emotions all the same. There was something reassuring and comforting within Sam presence, an open softness, that Dean often hid, and after getting punished and torn a new one by the gruff man so thoroughly, Ellie craved Sam's tenderness and kind disposition.

Leaning forward, Ellie rested her arms on the table as she looked at the window above the sink which was streaming in a hazy, but warm morning light across the kitchen section of the room.

"I'm probably the only Hunter's kid to mess up so badly." Ellie stated in a self-inflicted shame and melancholy tone as she put her head down, resting her forehead on her folded forearms naturally hiding her face as all her emotions seemed to be relentlessly punching her in the face.

A heavy ache of sympathy began to encroach around the kind man's heart. While his first instinct was to, immediately, call her out on just how mistaken she was in her statement and eagerly reassure her, the mindful Hunter found himself hesitating. Aware of Ellie's tendencies towards stubbornness, the man decided to take a different approach that he hoped would give her a little more incentive to open up to trusting them.

"Did I ever tell you that, when I was about your age, I decided to go on a Hunt by myself?" Sam informed, his deep vocals rumbling out calm and even, sounding conversational and bringing about an ease to the awkwardness and sad tension Ellie was holding onto. While Sam Winchester wasn't all that enthusiastic about bringing up not such a found memory from his teen years, as it was not one of his finest moments to say the least and did not paint him in a particularly positive light, the astute man was aware that if he wanted Ellie to open up to them and trust them, then he had to give a little in return and the man was only too willing for little Ellie sake.

Immediately grabbing Ellie's attention, the young teen lifted her head off her folded arms and turned her head to the side to look at him with wide eyes of astonishment and no small amount of intrigue.

"By yourself? Your dad let you?" Ellie inquired with shocked interest. Innocently blinking her dewy brown eyes at him, Ellie felt herself become instantly engaged as she was pulled away from her melancholy thoughts for the moment. She didn't know too many Hunter's kids and the possibility of connection and relatability was naturally intriguing, especially with the young version of the man she had come to care for.

An abashed, but good-humored laugh chuckled in the back of Sam's throat at Ellie's innocent mistake in his meaning as he dipped his gaze downward and shook his head causing the ends of his overgrown shaggy bangs to brush against the tops of his thick eyelashes.

"Let me? No, kiddo, my dad explicitly forbade me. I believe his exact words were 'over my dead body, son' or something along those lines." Sam informed lightly with a touch of an awkward small smile tugging at ends of his lips at the memory before bringing the small white coffee mug up to his lips taking a small sip.

"So, you went against orders?" Ellie affirmed carefully, already having an inkling of where the story was headed.

Sam bobbed his head a couple times in confirmation before resting his coffee mug back down on the faded laminate table top.

"We were in northern Kansas somewhere investing these deaths that were occurring in this old abandoned warehouse outside of town. We knew it was our kind of gig when we found out there was not a single trace of human evidence left behind. But, long story short, not even two days into the investigation, I was adamantly convinced that my old man was misinterpreting the research and was going about the Hunt all wrong." Sam recalled, distinctly remembering just how certain his teenage-self was at the time.

"Did you tell him?" Ellie pressed feeling her brows furrow in interest and curiosity.

"Yep, and he shut me down flat, with no other explanation expect, 'I know what I'm doing, son'. So, uh, being the persistent kid that I was, I continued to pester him for three days about it, which lead to big argument, like it always did, until he finally had enough and I found myself staring at our motel wall." Sam explained with no found memory, still recalling the dusty 1970s cheap paneling that covered the walls of that dingy motel room and his dad's 'go-to' method of persuading him to put a sock in it.

"That sucks." Ellie sympathized bluntly knowing exactly how much staring at a wall 'sucked', being familiarized with that 'cool down' method just last week. She just knew she had John Winchester to thank for giving Sam the idea which harbored a twinge of childish bitterness on Ellie's end towards the head of the Winchester family. It was easier to blame John, a man she did not know, over Sam, who she cared a great deal about.

There was this empathized frustration Ellie felt on Sam's behalf towards Mr. Winchester for allegedly putting the young version of the man she cared about in front of a wall for seemingly no reason expect that he was annoyed with him and didn't want to listen anymore. Although Ellie, rightly and astutely, concluded it was probably more than just the disagreement that landed young Sam Winchester in front of a wall. Perhaps Sam was disrespectful? That's how she got herself staring at a wall. That, and knocking the man's laptop to the floor which had Ellie cringing with recalled shame.

"Why didn't he listen to you?" Ellie pressed genuinely wondering why Sam wasn't given the time of day. From Ellie's young and limited perspective, Sam was remarkably intelligent, practically a walking dictionary as far as Hunting knowledge goes, and Ellie found herself somewhat baffled and irritated that he was not being listened to, completely disregarding the fact that Sam, at the time, was around her age and didn't have the experience he had today.

"My dad felt he didn't owe us an explanation on certain things, especially things that involved Hunting. He expected that if he said something we should say 'yes, sir' and accept it, without question, because he was the parent and he knew best." Sam explained in a causally calm, but straightforward manner giving Ellie an idea of his dad's authoritative reasoning.

In light of having a kid of his own to look after in this dangerous world, there was this newfound understanding and relatability to his old man's reasoning, but that did not mean it did not bring up bitter feelings of rejection and frustration at his dad's rigid authoritative mindset and refusal to disclose information with him. Even eight years later, it still hurt to recall being pushed aside and left in the dark with no other reason than he was kid. To his teenage-self, he saw it as nothing more than his old man being a tyrannical jerk, a hard ass, who could never be wrong or called into question. It was frustratingly overbearing and constricting as a developing teenager and only seemed to get more unbearable the older he got.

Ellie snorted in a mocking huff feeling a slight surliness rise against her sensitive nerves as the unpleasant tang of soap lingered annoyingly against her tastebuds reminding her exactly who she had to thank for that. Which, if she was being honest with herself, was her, but Dean was the easier target and she wasn't in the mood to think too highly of the hard ass Hunter.

"Sounds familiar." Ellie cared to compare, feeling Dean paralleled his father to a frustratingly accurate degree. In fact, this was sounding very similar to her and, surprisingly, relatable and there was this odd feeling of connection that Sam, perhaps, understood her on a level that she wasn't aware of before.

The sides of Sam's lips twitched up into a brief, but tired smile. While he was pleased at her connecting the dots to some degree, there was a touch of hurt offense at her mocking scoff towards him and Dean, but he really couldn't blame her natural resistance at them being so tough on her. He knew all too well how abrasive and overwhelming it could be on a developing teenager and while he would prefer her to be somewhere safe where there was the luxury of ease and leniency, that just wasn't the case and, just like John Winchester, Sam and Dean were not going to gamble with her young life at the expense of being liked.

"Well, after that, I got this idea into my head that if he wasn't going to listen to me, then I was going to prove him wrong by closing out the hunt myself and doing things my way." Sam went on causing Ellie's red tinted lips to part in shock, feeling a slight ping of anxiety ramp up in her for young Sam knowing just how dangerous and foolhardy that decision was.

"Believing I knew better than my old man and had upper hand in all this, I suck out behind his back, against orders, and went to the old abandoned warehouse where I was convinced a vengeful spirt was haunting, thinking I was fully prepared to handle it alone." Sam continued reciting his daring folly bluntly and openly as Ellie stared at him wide eyed, completely enthralled with concerned curiosity.

Ellie would be lying if she said she not a bit taken back that Sam would disobey so daringly as she would have dubbed Sam a responsible Hunter's kid. And, for the most part, Ellie would be right in her thinking, as Sam was often careful and tactful most of the time, but it would seem when it came to him and old man, there was a rebellious clash and the butting of stubborn heads that, occasionally, spelled disaster for the Winchester family.

"But, I came to find out, pretty damn quickly, that I was wrong, big time. It turns out it wasn't a vengeful spirit at all, but a human-like creature with similar tendencies that mirrored the consistencies of a vengeful spirit that I didn't know jack about, didn't even know they existed at the time, and my shotgun full of rock salt was about as useful as buckshot is to a wendigo." Sam informed in a blunt and scoffing manner, a small sneer of self-mockery curled at his upper lip as he shook his head recalling his teenage stupidity. Evoked feelings of embarrassment and shame resurfaced with that unforgettable hardy dose of fear for his life at the ripe and green age of fourteen.

Ellie, being a knowledgeable Hunter's kid she was, knew exactly how useful buckshot was to a wendigo - not a damn thing.

"Oh no." Ellie expressed in genuine shock and sympathy; her youthful face crimped with worry. Even though it was just a story, hearing the man she cared about in such a dangerous situation left Ellie's heart fluttering in fretful discontentment.

"W-What did you do?" Ellie urged in nervous interest knowing that if he was unarmed, he wouldn't have had much of a chance of survival, if any.

"Well, since I was improperly armed and put myself in immediate danger. I didn't do jack. In fact, I was so scared, I froze up, couldn't get my legs to move to even make a break for it, but, luckily for me, my old man was out scouting the perimeter of the warehouse at the time, heard the commotion, and came bolting in, just in the nick of time. Burnt the creature to a crisp with nothing, but a blow torch and an accelerant." Sam reminisced recalling how the creature bursting into flames and ash, still baffled to this day how his old man managed it. From his fourteen-year-old point of view, the skills, the speed, the bravery his father displayed that day was unmatched and was almost awestriking. While skill, experience, and physical strength had a lot to do with John Winchester's success, it was done with a hell of a lot of adrenaline and sheer dumb luck that he was able to accomplished it.

"So, you didn't get hurt? You were alright?" Ellie pushed wanting reassurance that young Sam was left unscathed from the encounter.

"Yes, thanks to him acting so fast, the creature didn't get a chance. And by some miracle my dad walked away with only a few nasty scrapes and bruises. We were damn lucky that day. It could've been a hell of a lot worse." Sam recalled gravely feeling the harsh regret of that night bleed against his chest knowing he almost got himself and his dad killed on a foolish teenage impulse.

"So, I guess, he was kinda mad, huh?" Ellie alluded feeling pity for fourteen-year-old Sam Winchester knowing the aftermath was probably not pretty in light of endangering himself and going against orders, something Ellie was only too familiar with recently.

"Kind of mad?" Sam scoffed shaking his head, a small mocking smile tugging at the sides of his lips. "No, he was furious." The man corrected recalling distinctly his father standing in the shadows of the old abandoned warehouse glaring silent daggers into him for what seemed like a millennial causing him, for a split second, to almost prefer the monster.

The brief picture of the outline of his old man's rigid muscular build flashed within his memory, recalling just how unnervingly stiff his dad was as his broad chest visibly rose and fell in forcibly controlled breaths of both labor and contained fury, appearing like it was taking a considerable amount of effort on his part to calm down, after almost witnessing his youngest child get torn to limb from limb by a savage monster. The memory of the distinct trail of fresh blood that trickled down the side of his dad's reddened face, from a gash that sliced just above his right eyebrow, had the grown man gulp with recollected unease as it only seemed to add to the thundering storm of fear-driven fury that silently raged within his old man's brown irises. The beads of glistening sweat, from both the intense exertion of the fight and the rushing heat of the fire that obliterated the monster, were riddled against his father's livid expression. And the absolute anxiety that face brought him was vividly chiseled into his memory, even eight year later.

"You get a licking then?" Ellie found herself asking, a pitying dread taking on her tone as she shyly dipped her head and cast her attention away from Sam for a brief moment before looking back at him.

Sam nodded his head in direct confirmation having a feeling that question was coming. "Yep, tore me a new one and I got fourteen good cracks with his belt." The man confirmed honestly in a straightforward manner without a single indication that he was in anyway embarrassed about revealing it which, for some reason, gave Ellie an odd sense of connected comfort for not being the only one to get it. While, of course she knew, she wasn't the only Hunter's kid who got her ass spanked, actually hearing a specific relatable instance to connect with on a personal level, especially from Sam, invoked an unexplainable ease on her burdened mind.

Ellie bit her lip innocently and cast her attention downwards getting a glimpse of her denim covered thighs which still had a small wet mark from where the soap droplet dripped off her tongue.

"I'm sorry." Ellie sympathized feeling an awkward abashment come over her for Sam, as she naturally pictured the unpleasant ordeal in her mind for a brief moment. Although it was hard to picture Sam as a kid from her adolescent point of view, she attempted and it left an awkward and pitying feeling in her gut for the man she cared about. Deserved or not, getting your ass whoop with a belt, absolutely, sucked and she didn't wish it on anyone, Sam least of all. Dean? Maybe, she could be persuaded, but, then again, that might just be in light of her backside still aching and the nasty tang that pestered her tastebuds.

Ellie almost shook her head in confoundment just knowing fourteen-year-old Sam Winchester probably took his licking a hell of a lot better than she did. She was a wailing, snotty, tear-filled mess by the end of it. Granted, a lot of the tears were from the tremendous guilt of everything, which was still haunting her conscience and probably would for a long damn time, but no matter how much it stung her pride, she had to admit the physical pain was absolutely atrocious and nothing to brush aside. Dean let her have it good and it really hurt and there would be no way in hell she could hope to get through it without tears.

There was a part of her that couldn't help, but innocently wonder if Sam had to drop his jeans for it too, like Dean had her do last night, and her uncle a few times before that, but was far too embarrassed to ask such a question. While she didn't wish a licking on young Sam, there was still this selfish and natural satisfaction and comfort that came with hearing about it, knowing that she wasn't alone in her reckless behavior nor was alone in the consequences thereafter.

"Don't be sorry for me, kiddo." Sam encouraged strongly in rebuttal. "I earned that one. I was impulsive, cocky, and I almost got myself killed. And for what? All for the stupid reason to one up my old man and prove he was wrong? A really horrible way to go out of this world at fourteen..."

Oh, she agreed that he earned it, as the tough instilled teachings of being a Hunter's kid told her endangering your life like that deserves nothing less than licking, and there was even part of Ellie that held a smidge of approval that he got what was earned, for the one simple reason that she did not like him endangering his life like that. It scared her right down to her core. No matter how long ago it was, it disturbed her heart a great deal to think he could've died, unknowingly, giving her, but a taste of what John Winchester felt at the time and what Sam and Dean felt when she needlessly risked her life.

Yet, there was still this adolescent defensiveness in her for Sam's sake and if she was being honest with herself, a little for her own sake as well. Believing if John would have just told Sam everything about the monster and showed the research to back it up, Sam wouldn't have did what he did. So many things could be solved if these 'stupid', overprotective, adult Hunters, would just open their damn mouths and talk straight, rather than just leaving their kids anxiously, alone, in the dark. The whole sparing the grueling details spiel and 'you don't need to know everything' crap was just unfair, selfish, bullshit from Ellie's narrowed, and frankly, bitter perspective. Following someone around like some blind obedient dog, or some rigid orderly, saying their 'yes, sirs' while they waiting around with their thumbs up their asses seemed like a really sucky way of being in Ellie's calculations.

"But if he would've just told you, it was a creature and not a spirit…" Ellie offered in young Sam Winchester's defense, but was, immediately, shut down by the adult Sam Winchester to the right of her.

"No, Ellie. I was kid and I should've just listened, regardless, of what he decided to keep to himself at the time. I was wrong, on all counts, kiddo, and I earned every one of those cracks my old man's dish out." Sam asserted strongly seeming to alluded and parallel his experience with Ellie's recent transgressions and Ellie, luckily, and somewhat embarrassingly, seemed to get that loud and clear. Long story short, regardless of reasoning and intention, Hunter's kids needed to listen to the experienced adults Hunter who, knew a hell of a lot more than adolescents going through puberty and that was just the barebone fact of the matter.

"My point in all this is you are not the first Hunter's kid to make a mistake that was dangerous and wrong and I'm sure you won't be the last. I've said it before, kiddo, and I'll say it again, you are not alone. Dean and I aren't going anywhere. I know we're not perfect and we won't pretend to be, but you can rest assured that we're going to be there for you when you need us. It may not always be in the way you 'want' and that might mean having a sore seat from time to time when you make mistakes, but, one thing you can be sure of, at the end of the day, you will be safe and cared for. All we need from you in return is a bit of trust and respect for the orders we give you. They're not to boss you around, they're for a damn good reason. You understand what I'm saying, sweetheart?" Sam urged gently in a tender, but confident manner, his green eyes wide as they glinted with a genuine care and affection that couldn't be mistaken for anything else.

"Yes, sir." Ellie sniffled as a well of appreciative tears build up under the rims of russet eyes feeling her young troubled heart swell with a tender warmth at the genuine man's honest words making the ache in her backside, the taste of cheap soap, and the bitterness she was harboring fade to the back of her mind and away from her heart. No matter how much of a pain in the ass she may be or what mistakes she had made, or would make in the future, did not seem to change the fact that they were going to be there for her and that meant the world to the little Hunter. While she knew everything was temporary with the Winchesters, for now, it was enough to give her aching heart the encouragement it needed to keep her head up.

Sam scarped his chair back and angled his body slightly outward away from the table before wordlessly pulling his arms from his sides inviting Ellie into his arms if she wished. And this time, Ellie didn't even have to think twice and got up from her seat to embrace the kind Hunter that seemed to understand her. Sam wrapped his long toned arms around the little girl's slight frame from his seated position, drawing her in between his spread thighs causing Ellie to bend her torso down slightly and nestle her face in the crook of the man's warm neck. Ellie returned the warm embrace affectionately by wrapping one arm around his broad and hooking the other around his neck.

"I know it can be tough sometimes, kiddo, but you gotta understand you matter a hell of a lot to us and we're gonna do everything in our power to protect you." Sam reiterated with a gentle, but confident reassurance making Ellie repeated the beautiful and heartening phrases over in her head.

I matter to them. I'm not alone. I'm safe. I'm cared for.

After a few moments Sam broke the embrace, pulling her at arm's length between his spread thighs, as he flashed her a genuinely warm and encouraging smile before patting the side of her denim hip affectionately as he moved to stand up.

"Go ahead and grab your stuff." Sam encouraged gesturing to her bags on the floor before turning around and rounding the table towards the sink to dump out the rest of his coffee feeling a hopeful encouragement pulse against his chest along with an intense amount of parental-like affection and gratitude for the little life in his hands.


TBC

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