Phone Calls and Discipline
Disclaimer: I don't own them, any of them no matter how much I beg.
John closed his phone with a snap and ran a shaking hand over his face. He was tired, but he knew he couldn't stop yet. Still, a change of venue might be a good idea and Rupert would not have called unless he truly needed help. Sighing he flipped his cell open again and pressed the key to dial Dean's phone. Months of no contact, he didn't look forward to the scene his boys were going to cause.
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"What exactly did he say?" Sam questioned as they headed down the highway.
"Nothing really, just that he wants to us to meet him in LA," Dean answered distractedly, his thoughts on his father's vague call.
"Months of nothing and we're suppose to just drop everything and run to his side," Sam complained.
"'S what we do, Sammy," Dean reminded him. "Beside, you don't have to come. I can drop you back off at school."
"Here now, ain't I?" the younger Winchester snapped. "Want to see Dad anyway."
Their conversation tapered off as they each thought of what they wanted to say to their father. Questions and accusations swirling in their minds, building quantity and momentum as the trip continued.
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A final swing of the hammer and Rupert stood back from the door with a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure if his idea would work, but it was better than waiting for their former friends to come and slaughter them in their sleep. Tiredly he shut the door now decorated with a crucifix and moved to start on the windows. Hopefully John and his boys would arrive quickly and help them resolve the matter.
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Despite what people may have thought, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was not a coward. He refused to rush headlong into the unknown, but he never strayed from what needed to be done. Yet, for once in his life he wanted to run. Or surrender, he wasn't sure which. He was surrounded by vampires. Two masters, two childr and a large amount of minions. He didn't think his sudden surge of cowardice was uncalled for.
"Ah, my little gift, how are you this evening?" drawled Angelus from the door to Wes' room. "Are you ready to behave yet?"
The Watcher refused to respond, fixing his gaze on the wall across from him. It had been two days of the same thing. Angelus would come in and ask the captive man a wide assortment of questions, all ending 'are you ready to behave?' Wes wouldn't answer, fearing that he would say yes if he did.
"Sulking like a child," Angelus commented. "If you continue like this I will treat you like a child."
The warning and threat sent a new surge of fear through Wes and he glanced up quickly at the vampire. Angelus' face was set in impassive angles as he stared down at him. Seeing the stone like expression, Wes' eyes skittered back to the wall and he tried in vain to ignore the looming vampire.
"I guess that means I will be treating you like an errant child," the vampire sighed. He reached down and dragged Wes to his feet. "Come on."
Wes pulled against Angelus' hold as they moved through the makeshift halls in the warehouse, but the steel grip wouldn't budge. He began to fear what the vampire had in store for him and wondered if perhaps he should have played along and pretended to behave. They reached what was obviously Angelus' rooms and the taller man pushed him inside. The click of the lock had Wes whirling back around and he shivered at the look in the dark gaze Angelus leveled at him.
"Do you know what happens to children that misbehave?" Angelus asked silkily as he stalked closer to the now trembling man. Wes shook his head. "They get spanked."
The realization of what was going to happen hit Wes like a blow and he tried to dart around the large man. The vampire easily caught him and threw him in the direction of the bed. He landed with a thump, the breath knocked out of him. Angelus was on him before he managed to pull in a full breath and he found himself draped across the vampire's lap. A harsh rip sounded and a breeze brushed over the expose flesh of his backside. Uselessly he struggled, trying to escape the immovable arm that held him in place.
The first blow landed with a sharp crack and Wes cried out as the pain traveled from his abused flesh to his brain. The rest of the blows came quickly, landing one after another, heating up his ass. Tears formed in his eyes and he struggled to hold them at bay, but the pain overwhelmed him and soon he was sobbing. Finally the rain of blows stopped and a cool hand traced the red and bruised flesh. Careful hands lifted and shifted him until he was seated on Angelus' lap, the bigger man holding him easily as he cried.
"Are you going to behave now?" the vampire asked again.
"Yes," Wes whispered through his tears.
"Be good and I just may keep you." The threat was not lost on Wes, but the pain and the following comfort eased whatever fear he may have felt. He was sure later he would have problems with Angelus' pronouncement, but for now he would just let it be.
When his tears had finally slowed he noticed the object lying innocently on the bed. "A hairbrush?" he exclaimed.
"It's what my mother used on me when I misbehaved as a child," the vampire admitted. "I figured it would work just as well on you."