Cheating Always Hurts (Supernatural John/Sam John/Dean)

[spankingfemme]

Hey guys! I know, long time no update! Ahh well tis life :P I do have a Supernatural story to share (That I somehow over looked to posting here... opps! Well it's here now! You guys are used to that by now right? :P (This story takes place when Sam is 15 and Dean is 19. I’ve got a new RPG player coming to the fold, nocturnal08! She is playing Sam, I’m playing Dean, and Jet is playing John.) Enjoy!

Dean paced back and forth; it was seven O’clock already! “Come on Sammy! You can do this crap later. If we don’t get over to Melissa’s party, all the booze is gonna be gone! And I’ll tell ya what’ll be worse Sammy, if all the scantly clad chicks are also gone! I swear I’ll help you study for your Algebra test tonight after the party. Come on man, think about it will you?”

Dean had been working on getting Sam to agree to come with him since five O’clock when he’d gotten the phone call inviting him to the BBQ pool party. Melissa was a real looker, and so were her friends. He was certain tonight would be a night he’d never forget… that was saying he could get Sam to agree to come along. Their dad had told them that whenever he was out on a hunt they had to stick together for safety sake in case he needed them at a moments notice. So, if Sam didn’t go, neither could Dean.

"Dean! I already told you I'm not going to that stupid party!" Sam griped, leaning down over his algebra homework. "I already spent every night this week training! I HAVE to study for this, man. If I don't memorize these equations, I'm gonna be screwed for the test tomorrow. Just GO without me, okay. I'll be totally fine here."

Dean slammed his hands down on the desk on either side of Sammy’s book responding, “You know I can’t leave without your sorry carcass in tow! Dad would kill me! Can’t you just do me this one favor Sammy? I swear I’ll make it up to you! Besides, we only have to go for a little while… two hours tops! What do ya say Sammy? I’m pleading with you here. Two hours. That’s it.”

Sam glanced at the clock, considering. "Fine, Dean, just wait a sec. I'm taking these note cards, okay? And you SO owe me. And if Dad finds out, this is ALL your fault. Can I just wait in the car? I swear, I'm not eight anymore! I can handle myself just fine."

Dean’s face lit up with a huge smile upon hearing Sam agree to come along, “Aw Sammy, you won’t regret this I promise! Here,” Dean ran to their shared dresser pulling Sam out a pair of swim trunks, “Put these on. This party is going to be a blast, and since we’re only going to be there two hours, you can use the time to relax and get your head right for studying right? I mean what better way to get that noggin’ of yours going then a good meal, hot chicks, and relaxation at the pool?” Dean was hoping on a little more than two hours, and he knew the only way to make that happen was to loosen Sam up and get him to have fun at the party as well.

"Fine," Sam said shortly, grabbing the trunks. He looked reluctantly at his notes and shoved a few cards into his pocket, promising himself he'd make time for them later. "Just two hours, okay? Dean, I mean it!" He grabbed a pile of stuff, following his brother out the door.

Dean waved his brother off responding, “Yea, yea, two hours. No problem.”

The party had been everything Dean had said it would be. Sam may not have lost track of time so easily if Cindy hadn’t been there. Cindy was quite beautiful and to top it off she was also able to hold a decent conversation. Dean of course had hit the cooler as soon as they’d arrived hitting on every chick that crossed his path. Before either of them knew it, the party was dwindling down and it was fast approaching midnight.

Shit, Sam thought, when he saw the clock, and his stomach sank as he realized that not only was he going to be tired tomorrow, but he was screwed for his algebra test. "Dean!" he yelled desperately. "We have to go!" His older brother didn't have to worry about school anymore, but Sam was working his ass off for a 4.0... which he probably just blew to have a good time talking to Cindy.

Dean was completely engrossed with flirting on a college co-ed when he heard his brother’s wail over the music. He inwardly growled as he charmingly smirked at the girl holding up a finger to pause their conversation, “Just one second sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

Dean made his way to Sam who was hurriedly throwing on his shirt. “Hey Sammy, give me just fifteen more minutes man. This chick is totally digging me.”

"If you don't come with me now, I'm going on my own!" Sam said angrily. "I told you I have a test tomorrow! You said we would be here two hours and now it's almost midnight!" He glared at his brother, feeling suddenly tired and now very anxious about tomorrow's test. "We have to go now, Dean."

Dean huffed in irritation, “Fine. Just go get in the car ya big baby; I’m gonna at least go grab her number before we leave.”

Dean didn’t wait to hear his brother’s reply as he stormed away from him angry that he’d have to leave so soon. By the time he had gotten back to where he had left the girl, she was already chatting with some other guy. Dean now furious altered his course to the cooler grabbing two more beers for the road before heading back to the car where Sam was already sitting waiting on him.

Sam was near tears from the panic of being dismissed by his older brother. It was so unfair! Dean just didn't understand how important this test was to him. He stalked out to the car, slouching down impatiently to wait for Dean.

When Dean did make it out, he was weaving slightly and packing two cans of beer. He swallowed hard, remembering Dad's lectures about drinking and driving. "Uh, maybe I should drive," he said when Dean wrenched open the door.

Dean gave him a look Sam had seen a hundred times, the look said ‘Don’t mess with me Sam, I’m already pissed off!’ Dean’s expression softened after seeing the hurt pout plastered on his brother’s face. He put a hand on Sam’s shoulder responding, “We’re less than five miles from home Sam; I really didn’t have that much to drink, and I promise I’ll wait until we get home to crack these open okay?”

"Okay," Sam said, though he still looked a little nervous. He wasn't willing to be the whiny bitch his brother apparently thought he was. Besides, he only had his permit and didn't really want to try driving now that it was dark. He guessed it was only five miles... and Dean didn't seem THAT drunk. Probably Dad would never even know. "I just want to go home, Dean," he said finally.

Dean nodded in agreement as he started the car up and drove off down the road. He thought about the fact his brother had dropped what he was doing to come out to this party with him tonight, and when he turned to look at Sam, Sam looked absolutely miserable. Dean frowned; he hated making Sam feel badly. To make him feel better Dean commented off-handedly, “Just so you know Sammy, I really do appreciate you coming out here with me tonight, and for what it’s worth, I am sorry I kept you out so long.”

Sam was glad that Dean didn't seem mad at him anymore, but he was still unhappy and starting to recriminate himself for not making time to study earlier. And he should never have let Dean talk him into going to that stupid party.

"Dean, it's fine," he said shortly digging out his note cards, which he could barely read in the dim light. Besides that, water from the pool had made the ink run and they were completely illegible. "Damn it!" Sam swore crumpling them up in frustration.

Dean turned his head lifting an eyebrow in concern, “What’s the matter Sammy?”

"I'm gonna fail this frikkin' test," Sam wailed. "I didn't study and now it's too late and I don't know the material. Dad's gonna get all pissed and my whole grade for the term is going to drop!"

Dean was surprised at the sudden meltdown from Sam as he replied, “Wow, wow, wow! Calm down Sammy! Dad’s not going to be home until tomorrow morning, and I told you that I’d help you out didn’t I?”

“And how are you going to do that, Dean?" Sam shot back, turning to glare at his brother. "It's too late for me to learn it all for tomorrow."

Dean scoffed, “Who says you’ve got to learn it tonight? All you really need is the formulas right?”

"Yeah, but Dean, we need to know them for the test," Sam protested. He didn't understand what Dean was getting at.

Dean rolled his eyes replying, “Just write the equations on your arm and where a long sleeve shirt to cover them up then you can glance at them when you’re stumped. No one’s gonna notice. Trust me.”

Sam looked at his brother as if Dean had sprouted an extra head. "But Dean, that's cheating!" He replied with righteous indignation. After his initial reaction, however, he reconsidered. "Do you really think that would work?"

Dean’s brow furrowed, “It’s not technically cheating since you’re not writing down the answers; I mean all your doing is keeping a little visual aid to jog the memory. Besides, it worked for me, and you can study and really learn the stuff this weekend. No harm done.”

Sam snorted at the idea that this wasn't cheating --in his opinion it certainly was. But still, he didn't have very much choice at this point. "Fine," he conceded more because he was too tired to study anymore than because he was convinced by his brother's argument, "I'll do it."

Dean beamed proudly at his, what he thought, clever way around Sammy flunking his test. He spouted cockily as they pulled into the driveway, “I knew you’d see it my way.”

Sam just opened the car door, got out, and trudged into the house without another word. Dean watched him go as he leaned on the car quickly downing the two beers he’d snagged before leaving the party. He burped enjoying the increased buzz the two beers afforded before getting rid of the evidence in the outside dumpster and heading to bed himself.

Sam woke the next morning, nerves making him almost nauseous. He blinked groggily over at Dean, who was still out like a light in the bed next to him. He couldn't resist giving his brother a dirty look, remembering the "plan" they had come up with for his test today. He let out a beleaguered sigh and took a shower; glancing speculatively at his arm as he considered where best to leave the notes.

Long sleeves weren't exactly seasonal, but Sam didn't really care about that. All he cared about was passing this test. He carefully copied the formulas he would need on to this left forearm. Unfortunately this was an advanced algebra test and the notes took up a lot of space. Oh, well, he thought, I'll just have to deal. He pulled on the shirt and went down to breakfast, feeling his heart pound guiltily.

Sam looked blankly at the paper in front of him. He had a basic idea of where to start the problem, but he needed one of the formulas. He began to edge down his shirt sleeve glancing up every so often to be sure Mrs. Flannigan wasn't alerted to his highly suspicious activity.

Unfortunately, the writing he needed lay below a bulge in his arm and he was having trouble working the narrow sleeve down far enough. Damn it, Dean, he thought, why do I let you talk me into these things!

Mrs. Flannigan, noticing that Sam was in some distress, came over to inquire. "Is everything alright, Sam?" She asked.

Sam slammed his arm down against the desk, hiding the writing on his forearm. He managed to smile, but it was a little shady considering he'd just started to sweat. "Yes, ma'am," he assured her.

Mrs. Flannigan allowed it to pass, but kept a close eye on Sam, who was one of her best students. He was certainly acting strange today. She wondered if he was ill. In the 27 years she had been teaching algebra, however, she had seen all the tricks and her sharp eyes soon detected Sam's attempts at subterfuge. She clicked her tongue in dismay scarcely believing that Sam Winchester was sitting there cheating on his exam right under her nose. Well, he certainly won't get away with it, she thought with a hint of anger.

When the bell rang, she collected the tests. "Sam," she said coldly. "See me after class, please."

"Oh, but I've got gym..." Sam trailed off.

"Well you should have thought of that before," Mrs. Flannigan said severely. "Now, Sam, please roll up your left sleeve."

Sam looked down, knowing he'd been caught. His spirits plummeted. He had no choice but to mutter a dejected "yes, ma'am" and reveal his deception.

"Young man, we have very strict policies about cheating," she scolded, "Now come with me."

"Where are we going?" Sam asked, nervously.

"To the principal's office to report this incident, and then we will call your parents."

Sam's stomach twisted, well imagining what his father would say to say to him getting caught cheating on a test and bringing the unwanted attention of the school authorities down on the family.

He trailed after Mrs. Flannigan like a lost puppy, dreading his next encounter with his father.

John was busy loading boxes onto a pallet with Dean, and telling him how the hunt had gone last night, when their manager waved at them from across the warehouse floor and yelled, "John! Phone!"

It was unusual for John to get any calls during work, because the warehouse frowned on it. He looked to Dean to see if he knew who it was, but Dean just shrugged. John left Dean to finish the pallet and headed towards the office. When he got close his manager leaned in and said, "It's your kid’s school."

John's heart rate went up, and he picked up his step as he went to the office. He picked up and said, "John Winchester speaking."

A voice on the other end said, "Hello Mr. Winchester, this is Principal Bellings, and I'm calling from Lincoln High School. Your son Sam is a student here."

"Yes. What happened?"

"I'm afraid we caught Sam cheating on a test today."

John breathed in a sigh of relief, knowing Sam wasn't hurt. Then he shook his head and said, "There must be some mistake. Sam doesn't cheat. He loves school."

"I wish it was a mistake, but Sam has admitted to it. You can see the evidence for yourself when you come to pick him up. Sam is suspended for three days."

Still thinking there must be some kind of explanation to this John said, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

He went to find his manager and let him know he would need the rest of the day off. Next he found Dean and said, "That was Sam's school. They say he was cheating on a test. Can you believe that? SAM cheating?"

Dean’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, although he wasn’t surprised about Sam cheating but rather getting caught doing so. His next thoughts went to the fact he had suggested Sam cheat. Would Sammy rat him out? He hoped not, it wouldn’t be the first time they had taken the fall for each other. Whether Sam would or not would mostly depend on how mad Sam was at Dean by the time Sam and his dad talked. Dean figured that Sam would probably get grounded and be given extra chores for getting caught, and Dean would of course do them for him once their dad was out of sight knowing he would owe Sam BIG time for this!

Dean blinked and finally answered his father’s query by choosing to omit the fact that he did indeed believe and knew Sam had cheated, “Uh Sa… Sammy? No, I can’t believe he’d get caught cheating.” He hadn’t exactly lied to his father, but he did feel very guilty now for talking Sam into cheating in the first place. At least he would have a couple more hours at work to think about something to say to his dad in Sam’s defense.

John narrowed his eyes at Dean's behavior. He'd bet money that Dean knew something he wasn't telling, but this wasn't the time or place to talk about it. He knew Dean could ride the bus home after work, but made a point to say, "I'll be back to pick you up at five."

A shiver ran up Dean’s spine at the look his father gave him. He nodded and answered with a half smile, “Uh you know dad, I wouldn’t worry about me. I can probably get a ride back with Randy… Who knows, I might even get in a little over time?”

John gave Dean a somewhat less then friendly smile and said, "I'm not worried about you Dean, but maybe you should be. Be ready at five."

Not waiting for a response, John turned and headed out to go pick up Sam.

Sam sat in the hard plastic chair, squirming in embarrassment. A bit of black ink was still visible peaking out from under his long sleeves and Sam rubbed at it, wishing he could just erase this whole day. He should have known he couldn't pull off this stupid stunt. He should never have listened to Dean!

Sam unconsciously jiggled his right leg up and down, expending his nervous energy. Every muscle was taut and he couldn't help the pout that formed on his face. Every time the door to the office opened his head jerked up even though he knew it was going to be a bit before his Dad could make it over from work. He cringed, thinking of what that phone call might have cost them. Dad needed that job. Having to leave work to take care of a delinquent son wasn't going to help matters with his tight-ass boss, Sam thought miserably.

About forty five minutes later, the door swung open and Sam gulped, seeing his father walk in, countenance far from cheery.

John walked in and saw a very dejected looking Sam sitting in the office waiting for him. He gave Sam a displeased look and then went to the secretary. "Excuse me ma'am, I'm here to pick up Sam Winchester."

She said, "Alright, if you could have a seat, I'll tell Mr. Billings that you're here."

John went and sat down next to Sam to wait and said quietly, "Is it true?"

Sam felt his insides flip. God how he wished it wasn't true. He couldn't look his father in the eye, just stared down at the carpet, "Yes" he said hoarsely.

John sighed and finally did accept that Sam had cheated. He shook his head in disappointment and said, "Okay. We'll talk about it at home."

As he was finishing his sentence, Principal Billings came out of his office and introduced himself to John. John stood and shook hands. Mr. Billings asked them all to go back to his office. Once they were inside Mr. Billings said, "As I told you over the phone, Sam was caught cheating in his Algebra class."

Mr. Billings turned to Sam and said, "Is there anything you'd like to say in your defense? Any explanation you'd like to give?"

Sam glanced over at his father, whose opinion he cared about more than he was willing to admit, and then back at the Principal. He hung his head in shame, but there was nothing he could say, not without getting himself and Dean into a lot more trouble. "No sir," he told the floor and both men, "I'm sorry for cheating. I swear it will never happen again."

John could tell that Sam was mortified about the whole thing, and couldn't imagine why he'd done it. Mr. Billings turned to John and said, "School policy is clear on this. He's suspended for three days, and if it happens again, he'll be expelled."

John echoed Sam's earlier promise, "It won't happen again."

Mr. Billings nodded, believing both of them. He opened a file on his desk and got out a piece of paper. It was a form letter already filled out which explained why Sam was being suspended. The Principal handed John the paper and a pen. "You'll need to sign at the bottom."

John signed and handed it back. Mr. Billings turned back to Sam and said, "We'll see you when your three days are up, and then I hope to never see you in this office again."

John put an arm around Sam's shoulders and headed them out to his truck. Once they were in and John was driving towards home he said, "What happened?"

Sam blinked away tears of shame. God, he was so embarrassed. "I, uh, wasn't ready for the test," he said quietly. "I tried, but I just didn't have the, um, equations memorized. So, I thought, you know, I'd write 'um on my arm."

John was quite for a few seconds while he thought that over. Then he asked, "Is it something you've done before? Something you do often?"

"Daaad!" Sam whined, offended by the suggestion. "What, you think that's why I get such good grades?" He slumped down dramatically, taking his embarrassment out on his father. "No! I've never cheated before! And I wouldn't have this time if -- " he cut himself off, not quite willing to rat on his brother, "-- if I hadn't been behind," he finished lamely.

Not happy with the attitude or the fact that Sam was obviously hiding something from him along with Dean, John said, "Watch your tone Sammy, I wasn't assuming you'd cheated before, I was asking if you had. You're grades are always good, why would you feel like you needed to cheat? I mean so what if you flunk one test, you'd make it up and still pass the class. All I've ever asked is that you pass. You could get all C's and that would be fine. But getting caught at cheating brings attention to us, and that's something we can't afford to do."

"See, Dad, you don't even understand. One bad grade could bring down my entire GPA! And I know YOU don't care because all you care about it hunting! I've been working my ass off to make time to study and also do all the training you make us do. So, yeah, I messed up, but I just didn't feel like I had a lot of choices!" Sam let out in a heated defense knowing it wasn't likely to convince his father it was okay but needed to release some of the frustration he felt about his life.

Irritated himself John said, "What do you mean you didn't have a lot of choices?! You had the whole night to study! I think the real question, and one I intend to ask Dean when I pick him up, is what the hell were the two of you doing last night that made it impossible for you to study? And just for your information little boy, your GPA IS less important then hunting. But even if it weren't, can you honestly be proud of a GPA that you cheated to get?"

Sam wanted to be mad at his dad, but the lecture was to close to the truth for him to feel anything but shame about the way he had acted. "No, sir," he said quietly and spent the rest of the ride silent staring out the window and feeling guilty.

They pulled up to the house they'd been renting for a few months, and both John and Sam got out. As soon as they got in the door John said, "Go sit down on the couch, we're going to talk."

Sam sat, and John crossed his arms and said, "Tell me about last night. Why didn't you study?"

Sam was determined not to give up his brother. Sure, this was mostly Dean's fault, but he wasn't going to snitch. "Nothing happened, Dad! I got home, did a little studying, then I, uh, fell asleep and there was no time to memorize the fucking equations!"

John said with sarcasm, "If the equations were fucking, you'd probably have a lot less trouble remembering them. Cut the swearing, cut the attitude, and tell me how you cheated since you've decided to lie about last night."

Sam swallowed hard. Shit. Dad knew he was lying. He was soooo busted. "I-I wrote the answers on my arm," he held out his marked forearm to demonstrate. "So I could look at them during the tests. Dean said..." He trailed off, knowing he'd just made a tactical error.

John's face was grim. He walked up to Sam, and took his wrist, inspecting what was written on his arm. Still holding the wrist, John looked at Sam and said, "What did Dean say?"

Sam flexed his hand, but didn't try to pull away. "Nothing... he just, um, mentioned at one point that, you know, it might not be such a big deal..." Sam was sweating now, wishing that the interrogation would end or that Dean would come back to take a little of the heat off.

"That cheating wouldn't be a big deal, or that getting a bad grade wouldn't be such a big deal? Because one of those would be good advice, and the other would not."

"He didn't think EITHER ONE was a big deal, Dad. And he doesn't have anything to do with this! I'm the one who messed up, so just punish me already and leave him out of it!" Sam burst out.

John pulled Sam to his feet and swatted him hard. He let go of Sam's wrist and said, "Go wash that garbage off your arm, and then go to your room."

Sam supposed he had been, literally, asking for the smack, but it still hurt and it didn't seem to have gotten their Dad off Dean's case, anyway. He rubbed the sore spot on his butt and muttered a sullen "yes, sir," hurrying away before his Dad saw fit to swat him again.

Once Sam was in the bathroom and John heard the water running, he rubbed a tired hand over his face. He'd only gotten three hours of sleep the night before after a difficult hunt, and then coming home to this mess really didn't help. He'd been looking forward to getting off work, sipping on a beer while making dinner, and then calling it an early night.

He looked at the clock. He had half an hour before he had to go pick up Dean. He seriously doubted he'd get anymore information out of Sam about what had happened the night before, and wanted to talk to Dean about it before he went through with any punishment.

Once he heard Sam going into his room, John walked in after him. He leaned against the doorframe and said, "I'm going to go pick up your brother. I want you to stay in your room until we get back. Understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Sam said, knowing there wasn't anything else he could say. He just hoped Dean wasn't going to kick his ass as soon as dad was done with him. He definitely hadn't been a smooth talker, and now their dad was more than suspicious. He sighed, waiting until his dad was gone to pull out his algebra book. ‘No time like the present to learn this stuff,’ he thought, especially now that his grade was going to plummet from having a zero on the test and a three day suspension.

John went out to his truck and drove back to work. As he waited for Dean to come out, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to decide how to best get a confession out of his eldest son.

Dean had been sweating bullets for the remainder of his shift. What could he say in Sam’s defense? He hated lying to his father, but this whole thing was his fault, and that guilt alone made him feel ill.

The remaining two hours flew by faster than he would have liked, and true to his father’s word, John was sitting outside in the parking lot waiting for him to get off. Dean frowned at the way his dad’s face was contorted into a grimace. He was pretty sure Sam must have said something about his involvement, but then again his dad could just still be pissed about the whole event. Either way, he wasn’t absolutely sure if his dad knew what had really happened last night, and he didn’t plan on incriminating himself if he didn’t have to.

He hoped into the car and gave his father a small smile, “Hey dad.”

John gave Dean a small smile and said, "Hi Dean. Hey I wanted to say I'm sorry about jumping on your case earlier. Sammy told me what happened, and I know it's not your fault."

Dean smiled in relief thinking Sam didn’t rat him out and their dad must not have taken the incident too badly. He slouched back in his seat responding casually, “It’s okay dad; I realize you were stressed out when you left earlier. So… what did Sammy say?”

John started the truck up, headed for home, and kept a straight face while he lied. "He told me that he decided to talk to some girl on the phone all night instead of studying. And then when he realized how late it was, he brought up cheating on the test to you. You told him in no uncertain terms not to, because he couldn't pull it off without getting caught. Now normally I wouldn't like the fact that he was cheating, but I wouldn't be too upset. But to do it after you already said no?"

John shook his head and sighed in disappointment. "I'm sorry to say that's a spankable offence. Sam needs to follow your orders when I'm not here. I know it's not something you like to do, but since you're the one he disobeyed, you're the one who's going to need to spank him once we get home."

Dean’s jaw dropped in disbelief, “What? Spank him? Don’t you think he’s a little too old for that dad?” Dean visibly squirmed. How could his dad ask him to spank Sammy? Things had gone horribly awry, but Dean thought about it, he could pull this off. He would tell his father he would do it, and when he went in to Sam’s room to ‘punish’ him, Dean would just slap his hand and have Sam yell out like he was actually spanking him. This could work out without either one of them getting into any real trouble and their dad would never be the wiser!

John didn't have to think about that one. "Too old? Of course not. I seem to remember the last time for you was only two years ago, and you were older then he is now. I think someone is too old to be spanked when they start showing that they are trying to make mature decisions, even if those decisions aren't always the ones they want to make. Like you, telling Sam not to cheat. I have to say there was a time when I would expect you to actually encourage that behavior. But by telling him not to, you're showing me a more mature side of you. I'm proud of you Dean."

John put a hand on Dean's shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

Dean blushed at being reminded of the last time his dad spanked him. He had taken off in the Impala to meet up with some friends at the river. His dad had been waiting for his arrival, and the fact he’d been drinking before driving home was the last straw to having his dad bring out the belt. He hadn’t taken the Impala without permission since! Although he had been drinking and driving last night… ‘It was only a couple miles,’ he thought to himself.

Then his dad said he was proud of him, and that revelation was almost too much to take, but Dean swallowed his regret determined to pull off his latest concocted idea as he responded, “Thanks dad; you know I don’t really feel comfortable having to punish Sammy, but if it’s what I have to do, then that’s what I’ll do.”

John quietly thought about it for a few minutes while they drove. He was disappointed in Dean's behavior. Not only did he not confess, like John thought he would, but he seemed to be willing to spank Sam for something that he was sure Dean had encouraged if not planned.

As they pulled up to their house John turned and said with disappointment on his face, "I can't believe you'd rather spank your brother then confess."

The color drained out of Dean’s face at the knowledge that his father already knew the truth. He was so stunned that he was momentarily unable to find his voice again knowing that he was in a world of trouble.

It wasn’t supposed to go down like this; Dean realized he should have confessed to his father and that his hair-brained scheme wouldn’t have worked. It was too late for that now though. It was time to stop lying.

Dean hung his head at his father’s disappointed glare unable to take the piercing eyes any longer as he responded, “I’m sorry dad; I should have known you already knew the truth.” He glanced back up at his dad again stating in all earnest, “And I know it was wrong to let Sammy take the heat… I just figured I could have pretended to spank him, so that he wouldn’t have gotten spanked by you.” Dean added as an after thought, “I mean we really are too old for a spanking dad…” He figured the comment probably wouldn’t save either of their asses from getting blistered, but it was worth a try.

John scoffed, "Too old to get spanked? Your behavior tells me you're not."

John said with authority, "Tell me your version of the night."

Dean sighed regretting his actions right away; his father's response guaranteed painful repercussions to follow. He mumbled regretfully, "My version? Does it matter?"

He shook his head deciding if he was going to get it now anyway, the least he could do was take the blame off of Sam, "I asked Sammy to go out with me last night… he wanted to study, and I begged him to study later. We stayed out all night, and by the time we got home, Sammy didn't have enough time to study, so I told him he could write the equations on his arm as a guide. I'm really sorry for telling Sammy it was a good idea to do it. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal. I know you're mad, but you really shouldn't punish him, it wasn't his fault."

John took a couple of calming breaths and then said, "Thank you for the honesty Dean. You should know better then to tell Sammy to cheat. He's horrible at lying, and you know it. He's gotten better, but he's still not good at it. That and he actually liked school, so the guilt would make him even worse at it."

John shook his head and then, even though he had a pretty good idea of the answer already, he asked, "Where did the two of you go last night?"

Dean lowered his head as he answered, "Only up the road a few miles… Melissa was having a BBQ pool party. She invited me, and I knew you wouldn't let me leave Sammy behind, so I asked him to tag along."

"Okay. In the house."

John got out of the truck along with Dean who appeared to be moving slower then usual as they went into the house. Once they were in the living room John pointed to the couch and said, "Park it."

He called out, "Sammy, come here."

Sam cautiously poked his head out of the door to his bedroom, and then hurried to obey. When he got downstairs he gave Dean a searching look, then turned his attention to his father's stony countenance.

John walked over and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. He said, "Dean told me about the party last night. He said that you didn't really want to go but that he talked you into it. And he said he's the one who encouraged you to cheat. Is that true?"

Sam glanced between his father and his older brother, who was sitting dejectedly on the soft. He swallowed hard and finally nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. He didn't know if this got him off the hook or if Dad would just be even more pissed that he hadn't been straight with him before.

John looked back and forth a couple of times between his two sons and thought about what to do. He looked at Sam and said, "Cheating in the first place was a bad idea Sammy. The possibility of getting caught it too high to risk it, and you know we can't draw attention to ourselves. Under the circumstances I can understand why you did it, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. Especially since you weren't upfront with me about what had happened, and you had a bad attitude about the whole thing."

John moved his hand from Sam's shoulder to his upper arm, and walked to the coffee table pulling Sam with him. He sat down and pulled Sam over his lap. Normally John would have taken Sam to his room to spank him, but he wanted to make a point with Dean. He looked at Dean who was still on the couch and said, "You can think about the fact that you are supposed to help Sammy make the right choices, not encourage him to make the wrong ones." With that, John brought his hand down and started spanking Sam.
Sam couldn't help it, he started to squirm and whimper. His dad wasn't holding back, and he was well aware they were just beginning. "I'm SORRY!" he gasped as the hand came down again and again.
Dean stared on in disbelief that his dad would not only be spanking them, but be doing it in front of each other. As if it couldn’t have gotten worse, the high pitch squeal that erupted out of Sam brought a cold chill down Dean’s spine. This whole thing was his entire fault, and he felt absolutely horrible. He had to do something to stop the scene in front of him from continuing, so he jumped off the couch turning to face his father and yelled, “Stop! Dad stop! This isn’t Sammy’s fault, he doesn’t deserve this!”
John stopped spanking long enough to glare at his eldest. He said in his best drill sergeant voice, "Sit your ass down! That's an order!"
Sam would have been glad of the brief reprieve, if John's hand hadn't come down with renewed vigor on his hot, stinging bottom. He yelped and tried to twist away. "I won't do it again! Dad, please," he cried, breaking into sobs.
Dean still harried by the situation paced back and forth once before following his father’s instructions to sit back down on the couch. He ran his hands through his hair before clasping them over his ears and letting his eyes drift down to the carpet. It helped very little to shield Sammy’s sobs from his ears. Sam’s pleas increased Dean’s feelings of guilt ten fold as his stomach began to form a growing tightening knot. His own eyes began to tear up hearing his father’s steely hand slap down repeatedly on Sam’s ass as the boy’s screams became louder at each stinging swat.

Believing Dean would follow his orders, no matter how much he wouldn't want to, John turned his attention back to Sam and started spanking again. Once he heard Sam crying and apologizing, he decided he'd made his point with his youngest. He looked back over at Dean while still swatting to see if he'd made his point with him as well. Dean was looking at the carpet with his hands over his ears, and John could tell his point had been made because Dean looked close to tears himself.

John turned back to Sam and gave him five more even harder swats before stopping. As soon as it was over, he flipped Sam over so he was sitting in his lap, and hugged him close for a few minutes while he cried. It hadn't been the worst spanking John had ever given Sam, and in fact he thought he'd been pretty lenient all things considered. He was sure it had hurt, but he was also sure Sam's backside would be back to normal by the next morning. But Sam never held back while being spanked, and always yelled as if John were killing him after a few swats. John knew that made it worse for Dean to listen to, and kept a close eye on Dean as Sam calmed down.

For his part, Sam would have sworn this was the hardest spanking he'd ever gotten. But then again, they all felt like that. He clung to the comfort of his Dad's flannel shirt and sobbed himself out. It was embarrassing, sitting there with his cool older brother watching, probably thinking he was being a huge baby about it. But Sam couldn't help the tears. He felt like the sorriest, sorest kid there ever was.

Dean was relieved when their father had finally stopped spanking Sam, but this relief turned to silent dread at the prospect that he would be next.

After a few minutes Sam's tears slowed down. John kissed the top of Sam's head and said quietly, "No more cheating, no more going along with Dean's plans when you know they're gonna get you in trouble, and no more lying to me or talking back. Right?"

"Right," Sam agreed wearily. He'd cried himself out and now he was just tired. He leaned his head on his dad's shoulder briefly. "Dean didn't do anything, Dad. I didn't have to go along with his plan. It was my fault."

John patted Sam's back and said, "You let me worry about Dean. You're grounded for the duration of your suspension, and I expect you to do the studying that you were supposed to do last night. But for now, why don't you go back to your room and lay down for a while."

Dean took his eyes off the ground to watch Sam exit the living room. They drifted over to his father and when his father’s eyes met his, he lowered them unable to keep eye contact.

Once John heard Sam's bedroom door open and close, he turned to Dean. Dean couldn't keep eye contact, and John knew he felt extremely guilty about the whole thing. John unbuckled his belt and took it off the loops of his jeans. He set it on the coffee table next to him and said, "You're turn Dean. Come over here and drop your jeans."

Dean’s blood ran cold at the familiar sound of his father’s leather belt sliding out of it’s loops. It had been a few years since he’d heard it, but it was an unforgettable sound. The words that followed didn’t help. He rose off the couch and slowly made his way over to his father’s side deep down knowing that he deserved what was about to happen. He reluctantly followed his father’s instructions nervously unsnapping his pants and pulling them down to pool around his ankles.

He frowned at the vulnerable feeling that washed over him as he glanced over at his dad and said, “I’m really sorry dad.”

John pulled Dean down over his lap, started swatting rapidly, and said, "Sorry for what Dean? Sorry for taking your little brother to a party when he was supposed to be studying? Sorry for encouraging him to cheat? Sorry for lying to me about it? Sorry for acting like you were the one who was fifteen instead of your brother? Sorry because you had to listen to your brother's punishment? Or are you just sorry because you got caught?"

John paused in the spanking long enough to pull down Dean's briefs and pick up the belt that was beside him.

The guilt that had been building all afternoon since Dean had learned Sam had gotten caught cheating washed through him like a tidal wave. His father rattled off all his transgressions in rapid succession punctuating each crime with stinging swats. Dean couldn’t think straight but he agreed with every thing his father had said and let out a strangled, “Yes!”

Dean’s eyes widened as he felt his fathers fingers latch onto his briefs and relief him of the last vestiges of dignity he had left. The embarrassment quickly became a distant concern as his eyes followed John’s hand to grasp the belt. He sucked in his breath cringing at the knowledge that the soreness he was feeling now would be a picnic compared to the kiss of his dad’s thick leather belt he’d be feeling soon enough.

John didn't feel the need to say anything else about what Dean had done. He knew Dean well enough to believe he was feeling bad about everything, especially about getting Sam in trouble. He doubled the belt over in his hand and warned him, "You've got fifteen coming."

He lifted his arm high and brought the belt down at the top of Dean's butt, and before the angry red line could fully appear on top of the already pink skin, he brought the belt down again right below the first line, and worked his way down with hard swats.

Dean tried to be stoic, but after the third swat lashed down his body could no longer keep up with the fight in his mind, and he wriggled to avoid the swats letting out whimpers of pain as the tears that had been threatening to spill cascaded down Dean’s cheeks. By the seventh lick, Dean was desperate to get away from the onslaught of slaps, “Dad! Ow! I’m so sorry! You’re right! Ahh! I was wrong! Please! I’ve learned my lesson!” he pleaded wishing his father would take mercy on his already very sore posterior.

After the seventh swat John had gotten to the tops of Dean's thighs and had to start at the top again, going over skin that had already been smacked by the belt once. He lightened up on the swats a little bit, but he doubted Dean would be able to tell at this point. John finished up the whole fifteen, not responding to Dean's pleading. Once they were done, he put the belt down beside him and rubbed Dean's back for a few seconds letting him catch his breath.

Dean lay limp over his father’s knee trying to contain his sobs unsuccessfully which only seemed to make the tears pour out even more. His breath hitched in his throat as he whispered hoarsely, “I… I’m sorry I disappointed you dad. You… you’re right. I should have never have put my wants over Sammy’s needs.” Dean was glad the punishment was over and hoped that he would be able to regain the trust of his father as well as Sam.

John felt a twinge of guilt at Dean's words. He had been disappointed in Dean's behavior, and he did expect Dean to put Sam's needs first. But deep down, he knew his expectations of Dean were so high, that no normal teenager could live up to them all the time. And he'd been expecting it of Dean for so long, that sometimes he forgot how young he really was. He said softly, "Yeah you shouldn't have, but you've paid the price for that decision, and I forgive you. Nobody's perfect. We all make mistakes. The important thing is that you learn from them and don't repeat them."

He stopped rubbing Dean's back and said, "Get up and fix your clothes."

Dean responded with a solemn, “Yes sir,” and rose up off his father’s lap glad the spanking was over and he could cover his ass. As he pulled his pants back up, he cringed at the soreness that radiated there. He knew he’d be reminded of this event for at least a week. He wasn’t looking forward to those reminders, but he was oddly appreciative that the spanking helped him to let go of the intense feeling of guilt he had felt over getting Sam in trouble.

He gave his father a small smile in an attempt to erase the pout that seemed to be dominating his facial features at the moment responding, “I’ll do better to make you proud from now on dad.” Once he had wiped the tears from his eyes he added, “Do you mind if I go talk to Sammy?” Dean wanted to apologize to his brother, and he knew he wouldn’t feel resolved until he could.

John stood and pulled Dean into a big hug. "You can talk to Sammy in a minute. We need to get something clear between us. I'm proud of you all the time Dean. This may not have been a shining moment for you, but compared to all the other punk kids your age... well you're so far above them, that there just isn't a comparison."

John let him go, looked him in the eye, and said with a slight smile, "So don't be too hard on yourself. That's my job."

Dean returned the hug smiling genuinely at his father’s kind words; his dad always knew what to say to make him feel better, “Thanks dad; and yea, definitely not a shining moment,” Dean added jokingly.

John was happy to see that Dean seemed to be back to normal, and gave him a pat on the shoulder as he said, "Okay, go talk to Sammy."

As Dean turned to go that direction John called after him, "And you can tell him that I'm seriously considering having Pastor Jim come and baby-sit the two of you on my next hunt, unless the two of you can convince me over the next few days that you're going to be responsible while I'm gone."

Dean stopped on the steps giving his dad the ‘you can’t be serious look’ before lamenting, “Pastor Jim?! That man is about as fun as watching paint dry!” He added in all seriousness before continuing up the stairs his voice echoing in the stairwell, “We’ll be good I promise! Just please spare us Pastor Jim!”

Sam had gone up to his room, thrown himself down on the bed and covered his head with a pillow. Not quite enough padding to drown out the sounds of Dean getting a pretty harsh whipping downstairs. Sam winced along with the sounds of the belt crashing down, feeling it was all his fault Dean was getting his ass beat.

Dean made his way to Sam’s room hesitating at the door as he gathered all his thoughts together and decided what he would say to his little brother before softly rapping on his door and stating in an equally soft voice, “Hey Sammy, it’s me… can I come in?”

Sam sat up quickly, wincing as his sore butt hit the bed. He wiped away his tears and sniffed hard. "Yeah," he called, trying not to sound like he'd been crying.

The door creaked open and Dean peeked in first before entering. Sam looked up at him; his eyes were bloodshot from crying, and Dean wondered momentarily if his own eyes were as red. He walked in closing the door behind him and grabbed Sam’s desk chair rolling it across the carpet until it came to a stop in front of Sam. Knowing how sore his ass was, Dean chose to position the chair so he could sit on it backwards to take most of his weight of his sore posterior.

He sighed heavily as he carefully sat down draping his arms to hug the back of the chair and giving his brother a solemn grimace before stating, “I’m sorry I got you in trouble Sammy; you must be hating me right now.”

Sam felt his eyes fill with relief. He was glad Dean wasn't mad at him. Earnestly, he looked up at Dean. "It's not your fault, Dean. I was the one who let you talk me into going to the party, and if I hadn't been such an idiot and gotten caught, you wouldn't have gotten in trouble with Dad for telling me to cheat. And DAD's the one who went all drill sergeant on our asses, anyway."

Dean’s eyes widened as he responded, “Literally!” He gave his brother a smirk continuing teasingly, “It’s not your fault you got caught, I should have known you wouldn’t have the finesse to cheat like me. It’s not in your nature.” He became serious again adding, “I really shouldn’t have bugged you into going to that party. I should have just let you study, so yea, it is kind of my fault. Without me begging you to go, you could have had time to study for your test, and neither of us would have gotten in trouble. Sorry bro.”

Sam sighed, thinking about the hit he was gonna have to take in his GPA, not to mention the humiliation at having his classmates know what happened. Still, he couldn't blame Dean for being who he was. He forced himself to smile. "Dude, don't worry about it."

Dean could tell it wasn’t ‘okay with Sam, but there was nothing he could really say or do to make it up to him, but he would try anyway. “You know dad threatened to send Pastor Jim to be our warden if we don’t prove to him we can be responsible. I don’t think he’s serious, but we best be on our best behavior anyway. I was thinking, it’ll be a Friday night when dad heads out to follow that lead, and I get paid. Do you wanna go to the arcade? My treat.”

"Yeah, as long as I'm not grounded," Sam said, smiling. The fact was, he liked Pastor Jim, but he didn't intend to step out of line any time soon. His ass hurt quite enough to last him for a while. "I'm never sitting down again!" he groaned, flopping down on his stomach once more.

Dean smiled, “Luckily you don’t need to sit to play arcade games. You’re only suspended for two days right? That means we got two days to suck up to dad after you’re home free. I’ve got faith in us, do you?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking up impishly. "Yeah, with you and your smart mouth and me and my... whatever... we'll be lucky if Dad let's us live 'til Friday."

Dean rolled his eyes waving Sam off, “Aww ye of little faith!” He smiled back devilishly as he slapped a hand down on Sam’s shoulder, “Trust me, and don't say famous last words,” Dean warned seeing the skeptical look starting to cross his brother's face.

Sam chuckled. "I'm going to bed," he announced. "And you should to. At least we can't get into any trouble while we're asleep!"

Dean carefully rose off the chair and put it back under Sam’s desk as he responded jokingly, “Speak for yourself; I think I’m with you though, I’m going to go lay down for a bit before dinner, and maybe by then I’ll be able to sit again. Night Sammy,” Dean said as he walked out of Sam’s door. Sam didn’t respond halfway to slumber land already.

Dean shuffled down the hall to his own room; he could hear his father performing some sort of household task. He was embraced by the silence of his room happy to be able to flop down on his bed and fall asleep with a clear conscious even if it did come with a severely sore bottom.