Author's Note: Takes place during Season 10 episode 11 'There's No Place Like Home'. This is what I think could have happened between Dean and Bad Charlie if things had gone a little differently. I'm not recapping the episode, so if you haven't seen it, it might not make much sense to you.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and I'm not making any money from this story.

Warning: Harsh and abusive non-consensual spanking of an adult.

BAD CHARLIE

Dean stood in front of the stairs, blocking Bad Charlie from getting into the house and wrecking things for Good Charlie. The urge to hit her was so strong he had trouble resisting. He knew she was his friend. He knew this side of her was normally kept in check by her good side. He also knew Good Charlie would feel anything he did to Bad Charlie. Knowing these things didn't stop him from wanting to strike out. He wanted to see her flesh discolor from his fists. He wanted to feel her bones crack beneath his hands. And as he felt the desire to do those things, he also felt disgusted by his own desires. Logically he knew it was the fucking Mark of Cain making him feel these things, but damn if they didn't seem like his own genuine desires when he had them.

She attacked again and again to try and get into the house, and he thwarted her attacks while trying not to damage her after his initial punch didn't put her down like he thought it would.

He tried to think logically, instead of emotionally. He tried not to focus on the fact that she lied to him repeatedly, and took his car, but those thoughts were impossible to block out completely. Then when she got in a good kick to his leg he almost reached out and snapped the bone in her arm. He caught a glimpse of the Impala in his peripheral vision, and he was just barely able to resist the temptation by reminding himself that Charlie hadn't damaged his car in any way when she took it out for a spin. Then he remembered what his father had done to him when he had taken the car out for a joyride at fourteen.

Dean smiled, making Bad Charlie pause in her attacks.

"What's that look about?" she asked.

"I've been fighting the urge to hit you all day, but I just realized something."

"What's that?" she asked suspiciously.

"I can hit you without beating you up, and after all the lying you did to me today, you deserve to have your ass beat."

He saw a flash of fear in her eyes, before she plastered a smirk on her face, and said, "You know I don't swing that way, big guy."

Dean smirked back, "Trust me, kiddo, this isn't gonna be about sex. It will be satisfying for me, thanks to the Mark, but I'm not gonna get off on it and neither are you." He lunged for her, grabbed her around the waist, and hauled her to the steps while doing his best to avoid her kicks and flailing punches. He sat down, tossed her across his lap, and secured both of her legs by pinning them between his own. "If you don't believe me, you can ask Sam if either one of us got off on it the last time I did this to him, which wasn't all that long ago."

She tried digging her fingernails into the parts of him that she could reach. He made a tsking noise, wrestled both of her arms behind her back, and held both of her wrists together in one of his hands. Once she was completely pinned, he raised his right hand high, and slapped it down as hard as he could onto her ass.

Her eyes bugged out, as her entire body was shoved forward, smashing her hipbones into his thigh. All the air left her lungs in a loud whooshing grunt.

Satisfaction didn't come close to describing how good that first smack felt for Dean; it was exhilarating.

Inside the house Good Charlie yelped and put both hands over her butt. She yelped again and said, "I think Dean's spanking her, I mean me, I mean us. Ow!"

Sam raised one eyebrow at that change of tactic on his brother's part, but figured it was a smart move. Good Charlie was already sporting a split lip, and probably some bruising under her clothes from various punches. If Dean concentrated most of his blows on Bad Charlie's ass, at least she wouldn't end up with a concussion or broken bones. Sam tried to focus on the task at hand so they could get the key and merge the two parts of Charlie back together again.

For Dean, the rest of the world fell away. The only thing that existed was the rhythm of his hand cracking down on her ass, and the accompanying struggling and yelling coming from his victim. That was enough to make him happy for several seconds, but then Dean needed more. He tried to hit her faster, but that decreased the force behind the blows. With a frustrated grunt, he stopped spanking long enough to reach under her stomach, and unsnap her pants.

He opened his legs just enough to roughly shove her pants and underwear down to mid thigh, before clamping her legs between his again. He vaguely heard her calling his name, but that was inconsequential to the sight of her dark red skin with a few darker spots that promised to bruise. He wanted to see blues and purples surface under the red.

He started hitting her again, watching the skin turn white with each smack before going back to red. The annoying sound of desperate pleading started to come from her, but that wasn't satisfying at all. He needed to hear her scream in time with his hand. With that goal in mind he started hitting the same spot again and again, causing a significant bruise before moving to the next spot.

It took longer than he thought it would, but eventually he heard the first real scream rip out of her throat. He took a deep satisfying breath at the sound, and kept up the pace so he could hear more.

An arm suddenly wrapped around his raised arm mid-swing, disrupting his flow. His head snapped around to latch his eyes onto his next target. Familiar eyes met his. "Sammy?"

Sam gave Dean's arm a rough shake. "Stop!"

Jolted out of his haze, Dean took a look down at what he'd just done. His stomach twisted in revulsion, and he thought he might be sick. "Charlie?" he whispered, as he loosened his legs and let go of her wrists.

Knowing that the danger had passed, Sam let go of Dean's arm, looked at the damaged skin, and muttered, "Jesus."

Charlie's screaming had stopped as soon as the blows stopped, and the sound of relieved sobbing filled the night air. She slowly pulled her arms to the front.

Paralyzed with self-loathing, Dean couldn't move.

"Hey," Sam said gently, "It's gonna be okay."

Dean felt his brother squeezing his shoulder, and looked up at him. Sam was focused on Charlie, but Dean understood that the younger man was speaking to both of them.

Sam stepped around Dean, and gently eased Charlie's underwear back up over her ass to protect her modesty, and then eased her off of Dean's lap, and into his arms. She curled into him, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and let out a pitiful whimper.

"Easy," he said. "I'm just moving you a little." He took her up the steps to the porch.

Dean became aware of crying coming from behind him, and turned to see Good Charlie lying on her side a few feet away from him.

Sam laid Bad Charlie down right next to Good Charlie on the porch.

Both men watched in awe as Bad Charlie was absorbed back into Good Charlie's body, leaving one person on the porch.

Dean felt his brother's hand on his shoulder, and looked up.

"Did you break anything? Does she need a hospital?"

After thinking that over, Dean slowly shook his head. He'd punched her a few times, but that was before he'd lost it, and he'd been trying to deflect her punches without hurting her much.

"Are you good to drive if I sit in the back and hold her?"

He nodded. He needed a task to focus on. If he focused on driving, he wouldn't have to focus on how he'd just lost control, and let the Mark take over.

"You sure, man? I can drive while you sit in back and…"

"No!" Dean said, terrified of touching her again, lest he finish what he started. "I'm good to drive. The hotel isn't that far. We can give her some vicodin and let her sleep."

Sam went to Charlie, knelt beside her, and said, "We need to get you to the car. I'm going to pick you up again, okay?"

She nodded and held her arms out to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and held her breath while he moved her, so she could contain any sounds. Soon they were in the car, and she was situated on Sam's lap with the side of her face pressed into his chest, and her ass free from pressure in between his two legs. Once they were situated, Dean got in and started the car.

"Dean?"

He cringed violently at the sound of her faint voice, but dutifully answered before he started to drive. "Yeah?" He tried, but couldn't even force himself to look at her in the rear view mirror.

"I know it's not your fault."

His whole body shuddered. He shook his head and whispered, "Don't. Just please don't." He gave his brother a pleading glance in the rear view mirror.

Sam whispered something into Charlie's ear, and she sagged against him and closed her eyes.

Sam gave Dean a nod and said, "Let's go."

# # #

A week later after plenty of medication and rest in the bunker, most of Charlie's bruising was gone, and she was moving normally. She was prepared to leave, but couldn't bring herself to do it until she'd spoken with Dean. He'd been avoiding her like the plague all week, so she switched up her routine of sleeping until noon to catch him unaware one morning.

She woke up with her alarm at ten a.m., packed her bag, and then went to the main room where the boys generally hung out. She walked in on the two of them doing research. "Hey bitches," she said softly, announcing her presence.

Dean's eyes opened wide with panic for a fraction of a second, before he saw the bag in her hand and scowled. "You're leaving already? I don't think..."

"Dean," she interrupted him. "I'm fine. Everything is healing, and nothing hurts anymore, I promise. So you can stop avoiding me."

He sighed, glanced at his hands and nodded. "Yeah, okay." He took a deep breath, stood up, looked her in the eye and said, "I'm so sorry, kiddo."

She gave him an easy smile, walked up to him, and gave him a tight hug. "I know."

He closed his eyes and hugged her back tightly, not letting go until she did.

When she stepped back, she kept a hand on his arm. "Listen, Dean, I know you don't want to hear this, but I need to say it. The bad half of me killed a man, and when we merged I got her memories as well as my own. I don't know that I'd have been able to forgive myself if you hadn't done what you did."

His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.

"I know," she said soothingly. "It wasn't about that, it was about you letting the Mark take over, but for me, it feels like I paid for the things she did, and that's going to help me move on. So try to stop beating yourself up."

He was glad that she'd been able to reconcile what had happened in her own way, but he'd never be able to forgive himself. He gave her a nod, acknowledging what she'd said, and if she wanted to take it as acceptance, that was okay.

"Are you sure you're ready to go?" Sam asked.

Charlie let her hand drop from Dean's arm, and said, "Yep. I need to get back out there and face the world. Do damage control on the things bad me did."

She went to Sam and gave him a tight hug. "Thank you for everything," she said as he hugged her.

"Anytime."

She started walking up the steps, and Dean said, "Be safe out there."

"Always. You guys be safe out there, too." She gave them one more smile and a wave before walking out the door.

Dean sat back down, and tried to get back into his research.

"She'll be fine, Dean," Sam said.

"Yeah," Dean didn't sound convinced.

"You'll be fine, too," Sam said with conviction before continuing his own research.

Dean didn't believe it for a second. He'd never be fine with the Mark on his arm, so he doubled his efforts to find a way to get rid of it.

The End