The three men walked slowly out of the abandoned warehouse. It had been a long day, and a brutal fight – they were tired, bone tired.
For Sam and Dean this was not anything new, but it was the worst fight they had taken Jack into since they met him, and they kept a discreet eye on the young nephilim.

As they walked around the corner, Dean suddenly stiffened, looking towards the black car at the back of the lot. For a moment he was perfectly still, like a deer catching the scent of a hunter. This made Sam snap out of his weary slouch, hand going to the gun at his belt.
The quiet, empty parking lot hovered on the edge of violence, then Dean blew out a puff of air, and Sam's hand fell away from the gun.

They walked to the car with a bit more energy, but as they drew close enough to get a good look, they realized that this was not their friend Cas.
No, this was Castiel, warrior of the heavenly hordes, commander of angels.
In other words: they were looking at one extremely pissed off angel. The last time Dean had seen Cas look like that, he had ended up getting a thorough beating in a dirty back alley.
Drawing to a halt in front of Cas, Dean unconsciously took a half step forward and to the side, putting Sam behind his right shoulder.

Dean was the first to speak: "This was all my doing, Cas," he said simply.
Cas ignored that comment "Are you all ok?"
"Yeah, just some bumps and bruises."
"Is it dead?"
"Very much so."
"And the sword of Aziraphale?"

Jack lifted the sword in answer.

"Ok, good. We'll get back to that. Right now, we have another problem. Heaven wanted all three of you taken back there for punishment, and trust me, when I say, that is not something to be shrugged off.

Sam who had been staring at the ground, lifted his head slightly and looked intently at Cas:
"You said wanted, not wants?"

"Yes, I've been to Heaven while you fought the monster. I've managed to keep Jack off their radar in this little escapade and to … persuade them… that bringing the Winchesters into Heaven against their will might not be the smartest idea. I've been ... reminded... that I was sent here to be your guardian and your guide. It was made clear to me, that I've been lax in my task. So, I… made amends… on your behalf, and was allowed to return to my assignment. The angels will not be coming to collect you – instead you will be answering to me for this…. Those are the only two options available to you – submit to me or to Heaven, do you understand me?"

Sam's eyes were big and round as he nodded his head quickly, making his hair flop into his eyes.
Dean, already standing almost at attention, straightened up and quietly, but clearly, said "Yes, Sir".
Jack looked a bit confused, but nodded agreeably when Cas looked at him.

Cas turned to Dean, taking a step forward, Dean shifted his weight, settling his balance, clenching his jaw – obviously preparing to take a punch.
But Cas just reached out a hand:
"Give me the keys."
"Wha'?"
"The keys to the Impala, give them to me. "

Dean's brow furrowed. Sam was sure that his brother would refuse, but Dean took a long look at Cas, after which he, without further ado, dug into his pocket and slowly extracted the keys, handing them over.

Cas strode to the driver's seat, Dean started towards the front door, when he was stopped by a short:
"Jack, up front, you two, in the back seat."

The command made Sam and Dean pause – their eyes met, then they moved to each side of the Impala and got into the backseat, Sam idly wondering when Dean last had been back here while the car was actually moving.

The drive was uncomfortably silent.
Dean was sitting stock still, Sam was leaning his head on the window, staring into nothing and Jack kept fidgeting in the front seat.

The car drew to a stop outside the bunker. Without turning his head, Cas said: "You two, get out, go inside, and stay there until I return."
When the brothers had left the car, he added "No, Jack, stay, I can't touch the sword, so you need to help bring it to the pick-up spot. That thing needs to go back into lock-up."

As the Impala sped away, Dean looked after it darkly: "He better be careful with my Baby"

Sam had been moving around the bunker restlessly for a while, before he found himself outside Dean's room. He knocked perfunctorily as he walked in. Dean was on his bed, leaning against the wall, listening to music on his head-phones.

Sam plopped his long body down next to his brother, who took the headphones off and looked quizzically at his overgrown little brother.
"I'm kinda freaked out, Dean"
"Yeah."
"It's just. I don't know. I feel like I'm 12 years old, in trouble and waiting for dad to come home."
Dean shifted a bit on the bed, making room and Sam rolled onto his back, putting his feet up on the wall next to Dean's shoulder.
"Yeah, I know. Guess that is pretty much what this is anyway."
"What? Really? You think, he'll actually... you know...?"
"Oh, yeah" Dean made a wry face, "I'm quite certain about that! "

Sam felt his stomach do a little flip-flop, Dean's voice was devoid of emotion, a sure sign that he had clamped down on his feelings, which was never a good omen.
After that, they just waited in companionable silence for the inevitable.

When Cas finally walked into the room with Jack following right behind him, Sam shifted to a sitting position, one leg hanging over the end of the bed. He blinked once, the pit in his stomach tightening another notch. When was the last time he had seen Cas in just his shirtsleeves, without his usual trench coat and accountant's suit jacket? The man, angel, whatever, had even taken his tie off. This definitely didn't bode well for the upcoming confrontation. He began to stand up.

Cas waved a hand, "No, sit, you might as well stay where you are for now, and Jack, you sit down too."

Jack looked around the room uncertainly, then chose to sit down on the floor, leaning his back against the bed, next to Sam's leg.

Cas took a deep breath: "What on Earth were the three of you thinking? Not a word to me? Just going off grid like that? Breaking into heaven's vault? Stealing one of the most dangerous artefacts in existence? And the two of you decided to bring Jack along with you on this little escapade?"

As Cas was talking, he started walking back and forth in front of them.
Dean was sitting perfectly still, his eyes focused on a spot on the wall somewhere behind Cas.

"What was going through your minds? Who do you think is at the top of Heavens most-wanted list? And you two boneheads chose to traipse right into Heaven with him? Are you completely out of your minds?"

Sam kept glancing up at Cas's face, then back down at the floor, while Jack's eyes never left Dean's old belt, which was dangling from Cas's hand.

"Two angels are dead, good angels, people I know and have worked with, fought alongside of. And all for what? Another monster of the week dead? If you had come to me, I could have told you of other ways to kill that thing. Ways, that *did* not* involve stealing the Flaming Sword of Aziraphale to do the task. Do you have *any* idea what would have happened, if that, that, that, *thing* had fallen into the hands of a demon? There is a good reason to why it was locked up in the safest vault in Heaven!"

Cas stared from one to the other. Jack ducked his head, Sam met Cas' angry glare for a moment and winced. Dean kept staring at the wall, but squared his shoulders and said firmly "All my idea, Sir."

Cas took a long look at Dean, sighed. "Ok, then. Sam, Jack, why don't you go to your rooms, I'll be along shortly. That way you can all have some privacy while we take care of this."

Sam deliberately, slowly, moved to stretch out next to Dean, head at the end of the bed by Jacks shoulder. He twisted his neck to look up at Cas.
"Not going anywhere. It might have been Dean coming up with the idea, but I went right along with it, never even tried to stop him. We got into this together, might as well see it through the same way."
Dean looked away from the wall and his face softened for a moment, then he snapped back into the blank stare, eyes locked on nothing.

Cas just shrugged and began to roll up his sleeves carefully.
"Well, then, Jack, you're first – uhm, no, don't get up, just turn around a lean on the bed."

Puzzled Jack turned around and ended up on his knees, with his arms on the bed, looking for all the world like a small child saying a goodnight prayer.
Cas stopped fiddling with his sleeves and stared in confusion.
"Uhm, no, I meant, eh…"
Jack turned his head and stared at Cas, obviously completely lost as to what was being asked of him.

Dean snorted: "Ferchrissake, like this!"
He suddenly lunged forward, twisting his legs to the side, just as Sam sat back up. They each grabbed one of Jack's arms and pulled in perfect harmony until he was lying on the bed, his legs hanging over the edge and his knees on the floor.

When they let go, Jack tucked his arms under his chest, and settled his knees on the floor, but before he had a chance to take a breath, Cas had already swung the belt the first time, landing it squarely across his ass.
Jack's hands shot out of their own volition, frantically grasping. With one hand he got hold of Dean's forearm and grabbed on thoughtlessly. Dean stiffened in surprise, but didn't pull away or try to free himself. Sam calmly reached out to take Jack's free hand in his.

The spanking was hard, and fast. Jack never managed to get enough air into his lungs to do anything but gasp wildly as the belt landed again and again. The whole area from the middle of his ass to midthigh soon felt as if it was on fire. He halfway realized that Sam was squeezing his hand with each stroke and the muscles in Dean's arm was moving like live wires under his other hand.

When Cas stopped it took a moment for Jack to catch up and realize that it was over. He pulled his hands back and hid his face in his arms, trying to collect himself.

Sam put a hand on his shoulder and whispered
"It's ok, you did fine, sorry about this."
Dean awkwardly patted his head and muttered
"I'm so sorry, kid, shouldn't have brought you into this."

Jack wiped at his eyes before looking up at Dean: "Nah, don't be, it's ok, I had fun helping you!"
He heard an angry, incoherent splutter behind him, saw Sam and Dean wince, then a harsh smack of the belt across his flaming ass startled a yelp out of him.
Cas growled: "You better get your ass up from there and go to your room, before I decide to start over with you, young man. Risking your life is *not* having fun!"

Sam and Dean's eyes met at this and they shared a slight smile, quickly hidden.

As Jack started moving, his head hanging, Cas pulled him into a hug:
"I don't want to lose you, ok? Minding Sam and Dean on a hunt is not the same as going along with every harebrained scheme those two come up with. Use your own common sense too, please?"
Jack brightened up a bit at this and Cas gave him a small shove:
"Now, git, while I deal with those two fools."

As Jack left the room Dean turned around without waiting for instructions and lay down on his front, head hanging over the edge of the bed.
Sam stretched out next to him, tucking his face into the crook of his arm.

Since there was no need for any more word it was just the belt doing the rest of the talking.
Cas started with Sam, but shifted between the brothers at unpredictable intervals, not holding anything back, letting out his fear and frustration, so that even through their jeans, neither of the miscreants was left in any doubt as to his opinion on the matter.

Sam kept his face pressed into his arm, but couldn't stop the small grunts of distress. He was trying to hold still, but soon found that his ankles kept crossing and uncrossing.
Dean never moved, he was rigid, as taut as a guitar-string. He had a handful of the bedspread in a death grip, and was holding his breath whenever the belt danced across his ass and thighs, letting a groan sneak out whenever Cas moved over to Sam again.

Finally, they heard the belt hit the floor, Sam's head flopped down and Dean's teeth left his lip, just in time to avoid bloodying it.

After a long silence, Cas said in a peculiarly flat tone:
"That part was personal. That was family. The next part will be the lesson, I was ordered to give. And you should be thankful that I got to choose the form of that lesson."

Both men on the bed jerked up to look at him, so he continued purposefully:
"I'll go see Jack, and when I come back, I want you both here, with a switch each, do you understand?"

Dean just got up and picked up his knife, but Sam stopped to ask what Cas was going to do to Jack:
"He's had enough, it really wasn't his doing, any of this, please?"

"I know, I just want to make sure he has calmed down. Now get your knife, and go!"

Sam was staring at the willow, trying to figure out which branch to cut off. This felt unreal. Like he was caught in an old movie or something. He glanced at Dean to make a comment about that, but stopped in surprise. Deans face was white as bone, his freckles stood out and his eyes seemed to be twice as big as normal.

"Dean? What's wrong? Are you ok?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Talk to me. What's up? I mean yeah, that belt hurt,"
Sam rubbed his hind-end ruefully.
"Even though we got to keep our jeans on. I mean, Dad smacked me sometimes and I remember getting the belt a few times, but he usually did it jeans-down - like you did, you know, back when I tried to make that stupid deal..."
Sam chuckled. "I'd kind of forgotten how much that hurt. Never been switched before though… "

Sam experimentally swished the thin branch he was holding through the air, and felt his stomach do a 360 at the sound.

"I have, Sammy," he heard Dean whisper.
"You've what?"
"Been switched."
"What? Why? Oh! Did Dad?"
"Yeah. Remember, you ran off to Flagstaff, and when Dad got home…oh, man."
"Oh. Oh, shit. I'm sorry Dean. Uhhmmm…. Is it much worse than the belt?"
"Sorry, Sammy, but yeah, you have no idea."

Cas released Jack from his warm hug. He kissed his temple.
"You are forgiven, son. Just please, remember, use some sense. You call me and ask me next time Sam and Dean comes up with one of their outlandish plans, please." Jack nodded, glowing a bit at the implied praise that he had better sense than the two men he had come to think of as older brothers. As Cas left, Jack slid into bed. He was going to follow his adopted father's suggestion, and watch something called "a Netflix" for a while.

Dean was pacing the floor, one arm wrapped around his middle, the other hand pressed to his mouth. Sam was half-lying on the bed, his eyes following his brother's restless movements. It seemed as if every about-turn Dean did made the butterflies multiply in his stomach.

When the door opened, and Cas walked in, Dean whirled around backing up several steps.
Sam unwound himself and stood up on legs that was starting to shake.
Cas inspected the switches, nodding curtly.
"Ok, then, jeans down, lean against the wall. Both of you."

This time Cas started with Dean.
The switch sang through the air, and landed with a resounding "thwack".
Dean jerked at the strike and hissed as the welt rose. Cas laid down welt after welt from mid-ass to mid-thigh.
Dean grunted, shifted his weight from foot to foot. At one point he even punched the wall with a fist.
But he didn't say a word and never tried to move out of range.
When Cas threw the switch down to pick up the second one, Dean leaned into the wall and just stood there panting.

Cas moved to Sam, making Dean jolt upright.
"Please, Cas. Please don't. This is all on me. Please, don't whip Sammy. Just, just, give me his part too. Please. "
Sam turned to gape at his brother:
"Dean, no. No, Cas, don't do that, I'll take mine. Don't let Dean do that."

Cas put a hand on Deans shoulder and said softly, "I'm sorry Dean."

Then he turned back to Sam, who put both hands on the wall, and took a deep breath. He heard the switch whirr through the air, felt the strike land, but it took a beat before the pain hit. When it did, the air left his lungs in a wheeze.
He felt dizzy for half a second, as if the room had just skidded 2 inches sideways.

The next thing he knew, there was a scuffle as Dean's restraint snapped.
Dean was yelling, trying to pull Cas back, away from Sam.
Before Sam had time to really realize what was going on, Cas had swung round to slam Dean into the wall, keeping him there with a rough hand on his neck.
Cas swung the switch 5 times in rapid, vicious slashes all aimed at the tender skin where thigh meets ass, making Dean press closer to the wall and bellow in pain.
Still pressing Dean's head into the wall Cas rumbled that any further attempts at interference would earn not only Dean, but Sam too, extra strikes.

Sam leaned back on the wall.
"Please Dean, stop, you don't have to do this, I can handle it, please, just, let's get it over with, please. "

He looked over his shoulder at Dean as Cas took up position to lift the switch again.
Dean's face was chalk-white, his eyes almost black with distress. One single tear finally freed itself, slipping down his cheek.
When the switch twacked into Sam's ass, Dean turned to the wall, put his forehead and elbows against it and curled both arms over the back of his head.

Sam was desperately trying to stay quiet, the thought of Dean's despair running through his mind in frenzied circles.
He bent his elbows to put his forearms on the wall, pressing his mouth into his arm, biting at his sleeve to stifle his rasping gulps, which were all too soon starting to sound too much like sobs.
Next to him, he could feel Dean shaking uncontrollably. It took a while before he realized that he could hear Dean whisper "I'm sorry, Sammy," every time a slash whirled through the air.

When the second switch landed on the floor, all three men were trying to hold back sobs, although each for a different reason.
Dean pushed himself away from the wall almost falling on Sam, grasping him into a tight hug.
Sam drew his brother close, whispering: "It's ok, I'm ok," until Dean finally stopped shaking, and Sam himself felt a bit steadier on his feet.
He could feel every welt crisscrossing his ass. His entire backside was throbbing in time with his heartbeat. The two men reached out to draw the third into the hug, a silent reassurance of mutual forgiveness granted and received.

Cas was the first to draw back. He looked a bit uncertain, but Dean broke the silence:
"Hey, why don't you go get a six-pack, we'll get Jack, and let's all watch some Chuck Norris in Sam's room?"

And so they did. Cas even got them popcorn and pie.