A Fan's Revenge-Part 2-Pacey's Punishment


by Gills <Gcoa@isdn.net.il>

This is the second part of A Fan's Revenge. The Dawson's Creek concept and the characters belong to Kevin Williamson and the network that owns them. I'm only borrowing them. Thanks to everyone who sent me feedback. If you have any more ideas for TV based fics, let me know!

Our story so far (what went on during the episode itself): Dawson (James Van Der Beek) who's 16, got talked into going to an illegal party by his best friend Pacey (Joshua Jackson) and some of their friends. The party was stopped by the police-Pacey's brother Doug, and everyone present was arrested. Everyone but Pacey had been released. In the first chapter, Dawson got punished, and now it's Pacey's turn. Pacey's father is a violent man who is a bit too fond of beer, and also the town sheriff. This part is longer, and it completely ignores the end of the original episode that inspired this, and the following chapters of the show. Humor me. And now that you've been thoroughly spoiled, on with the story.

A note: This isn't what I think should've happened, but what I think would've happened. I do not in any way approve of really severe punishments for harmless fun gone wrong. Besides, I like Pacey. I think he only fully deserved the first part of his punishment. There, I'm done now.

Pacey woke up when the phone rang in the station. He shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench in his cell, wrapped his jacket tighter around himself, and tried to get back to sleep. He could hear Doug answering it.

"Capeside police....Oh, hi Dad....Yeah, we're fine....In about half an hour....That's good...." There was a long, silent pause. "You want me to do what? Can't you just....No, I see. Guess I can try. Yeah, I'll bring him home. Bye." Doug put the receiver down and went over to open the cell door.

"Rise and shine, Pace. We need to talk."

Pacey eyed his brother wearily. "What?". Doug looked down at him.

"Listen bro, I'm not gonna screw with you or sugarcoat it-Dad's pissed as hell about you, and he's planning to give you the hiding of your life when we get home. Unfortunately for you, you can't run off to Dawson's to wait till Dad cools down, because I'm responsible for getting you home, and I'm not letting you out of my sight." Doug sighed as Pacey's face turned white. "Sorry, man."

"Hey," Pacey tried to joke, "It's not your fault-mostly, anyway." His insides felt frozen. His father hadn't strapped him since he was 14, and he remembered the pain vividly. He buried his head in his hands, fighting down nausea and praying his dad would cool down before they got home. He knew that it was wishful thinking, but even dying men deserved some hope. I'm older now. I can take it, he thought desperately, or at least I have a better chance....

"My shift ends in half an hour. Till then, Dad wants me to give you a warm-up spanking." Doug said quietly. Pacey stared at him in shock.

"Right. And I'm gonna just let you?" Sure, Doug had punched him around in the past, but he'd never spanked him-that was their father's privilege.

"You have no choice. Dad wants to see some handprints on your butt when we get home, you know, just to tenderize you a bit." Doug winced, "That didn't sound right...." He rose and paced around the cell. "There's no point fighting over this-just let me do it and I'll be easy on you."

"Like hell I will!" Pacey tried to dodge his brother and slip out of the cell, but Doug was faster than he was. With a punch to Pacey's face, Doug turned him around and snapped handcuffs on him, trapping his hands behind his back. Pacey struggled desperately, but couldn't free himself. His jaw hurt. Doug dragged him over to the bench, and sat down. He opened Pacey's fly and pulled his pants down with one hand, the other keeping a firm hold on his arm. He then pulled Pacey face down over his lap. Pacey was alternately cursing and pleading.

"This station's soundproof, and our house isn't, Pace, so get all the screaming out of your system before dad gets his hands on you." Doug recommended. Pacey froze in terror again, and Doug relaxed his grip so he could pull Pacey's underwear down. Pacey managed to roll off his brother's lap, and made a dash for the door, only to trip on his pants, which were around his ankles, and pitch forward in a heap. Doug pulled him up by his shirt collar and shook him hard.

"Will you stop that? You're only making this difficult for yourself! Now take your punishment like the kid you are!" Pacey shook his head and felt blood in his mouth where he'd cut his lip when he fell. Before he could try anything else, he was secured over his brother's knees again, with his bare behind high in the air.

"Dougie, please....you don't have to do this....we could just....like, wait, and then go home and tell dad you made me scream-y'don't actually have to do it!" Pacey tried to reason with his brother, but Doug didn't let him go. He started spanking him, slow and hard spanks that stung like hell.

"Sure, I don't have to do this, bro, but I want to." Doug said as he spanked. " I think you deserve it-you did something really stupid tonight, and you should be punished. I'm only sorry that dad wants to punish you as well."

Pacey squirmed, but took the stinging slaps without a sound. He was determined to take it as silently as he could, and not to give his brother the satisfaction of seeing him cry. After about five minutes, his resolve was starting to fail.

"It was dangerous, Pacey. God only knows what they could've put in those drinks, and I'm fairly sure there were also drugs over there. What if you or one of your friends had gotten hurt? Tried to drive when they were high or drunk, maybe even gotten killed. How would you have felt then?" Doug scolded him mercilessly.

"I dunno...." Pacey gasped as a particularly vicious spank landed on the lower part of his butt. He could feel the tears burning in his eyes, and focused on anger to keep them in.

"Also, I heard what you said to Dawson and Joey-it was hurtful and mean and unfair."

"I was....am....drunk." Pacey choked past the lump in his throat. "I just wanted to have some fun...." Tears were pouring down his face now, and a gasp that was almost a sob escaped him. He's been looking for a reason to cry all week, but he just couldn't lose control now. Not like this.

"Is fun worth losing a friend? Maybe losing him or her for good? I don't think it is, Pacey, and I don't think you think so either. So you were dumb, and now you're being punished." Doug went on spanking Pacey till he was crying, large wrecking sobs that shook his body. His legs, trapped by his pants, flailed uselessly, and he felt the strain on his shoulders as he fought the cuffs on his hands.

"I think that maybe you know you've been bad, and maybe you want to be punished, just to know we care. Well, there you are." Doug checked his watch, then landed three more hard spanks on Pacey's burning, scarlet bottom. "There. All finished for now. Now you go stand in the corner while I get my things. Your pants stay down." He helped Pacey to his feet, and unlocked the cuffs, then led him to the corner with a final swat that made him yelp. Pacey stood, seething with anger and humiliation, one hand covering his privates, and the other alternately wiping off tears and rubbing his sore behind. He felt like a six-year-old. His heart rose in elation when he thought that his mother might calm his dad down, then sunk again when he remembered that she was on a business trip for the weekend. Of course-dad never punched him when his mom was around. Unfortunately, she was away a lot. Slowly he regained control of himself, still trembling, while his butt faded to pink and the pain receded. He then concentrated on being terrified and really sorry for himself.

"Alright." Doug appeared behind Pacey after about 15 minutes. "Pull your pants up, get your things and let's go." Pacey pulled his pants up carefully, biting his lip when they slid over his still-throbbing ass. They walked to the car silently, and Pacey was relieved that his brother's replacement didn't seem to notice him. Doug kept a hand on his shoulder all the way, and pushed him into the back seat before locking all the doors. For once Pacey didn't mind sitting in the back-it meant he could lie down and take the weight off his butt. He didn't enjoy the ride home.

Their father was waiting for them in the living room when they arrived. Pacey stumbled slightly as he entered the house, and lifted a hand to stop his father.

"Before you start yelling, excuse me for a sec, alright?" he said, and without waiting for a reply rushed to the bathroom to throw up. The bumpy ride back reminded him that he was still slightly drunk. He wiped his mouth shakily and returned to the living room, where his brother and father were waiting. "Now you can start." He braced himself.

"You are gonna be SO hung over tomorrow." Doug commented from the back of the room. Their father glared at him.

"Shut up, Douglas." Pacey glared at him as well. "Yeah, shut up, Dougie!" He was unprepared when his father backhanded him hard across the face, and stumbled back a few steps.

"Shut up yourself, at least till someone speaks to you." Pacey refrained from pointing out that Doug had been talking to him. "Now, take off your pants and shorts. Quickly!" John added when Pacey hesitated. "Every moment you waste will cost you extra licks." He pointed to the sofa, where a thick leather belt waited to be used. Pacey froze again. "What's this?" John looked at the bruises on Pacey's face with interest.

"He struggled." Doug explained. "I had to restrain him." John nodded.

"This means extra licks for disobedience, you know." Was all he said. Pacey decided to at least try and defend himself.

"This isn't fair. I've been punished enough. I bet none of the others are getting this." He said bravely, feeling like Oliver Twist must've felt when he asked for that extra bowl of gruel. His fathered glared at him.

"You don't decide what's fair and what's unfair, I do. You are getting punished because I say you should."

"And besides," Doug added, "I'm pretty sure that there are lots of kids who got grounded tonight. Maybe not all of them, but still...."

"You are the Sheriff's son, Pacey! You can't just do things without thinking!" His father exploded. "Not that I wouldn't expect it from a screw up like you, but you can't drag other people into your crap, do you understand?" John grabbed his son's face and forced Pacey to look at him. "I will NOT accept phone-calls like the one I got tonight from Mitch Leery, asking why the hell you were dragging Dawson into doing illegal things!" He let go of Pacey, who stared at him, unbelieving. Was that what Dawson had told his father? Was it really his fault? He didn't think so. He might have dragged Joey and Andie into it, but not Dawson!

"Dawson went because he wanted to. It's not fair blaming me for his decisions." He said quietly. "It's not."

"You told him about the party, you found out where it was, you talked him into it, didn't you?" John was only guessing, but the guilt on Pacey's face told him he'd hit that mark. "I have it on very good authority that Dawson got the hardest spanking of his life tonight; I don't see why your punishment should be any less. I fact, since you are responsible for his being there, you should get an even harsher punishment, and you will."

Again, Pacey was speechless. Mitch had spanked Dawson? Impossible....He hadn't done that since....since they were both eight and tried to run away together. Pacey's dad had been out of town that weekend, so Mitch had spanked him as well. It had been one of the more painful experiences of his life. For a second he felt sorry for his friend, but then he remembered his betrayal, and decided that Dawson deserved whatever he got. His father's voice brought him back from his thoughts with a bump.

"Go on, boy, turn around and let me see your butt." He ordered again. Flushing red, Pacey turned around. John surveyed the pink half-globes of his son's behind and smiled at his older son. "Good work. Not bad for an amateur." From him, this was high praise. "Get yourself over the back of the couch!" He snapped at Pacey, who was doing his best to cover himself up-he was only wearing a shirt now. When he hesitated again John grabbed him by his collar and dragged him over the back of the couch, with his feet barely brushing the floor and his face resting on the seat cushion. His bottom was exposed and vulnerable, and he was absolutely petrified with fear. "Grab his hands, Douglas, and hold him steady." John told his eldest, "Wouldn't want him to get away, now, would we?" Doug walked around the couch and faced Pacey. He gave him the most reassuring smile he could, and held both his wrists in a tight lock.

"I think...." John picked up the belt and swung it around a few times. "Normally, I'd give you twenty, but this was really stupid, AND you were responsible for others, AND you put up a fight, so I think 50 would be more like it." Both Doug and Pacey gasped at this. Pacey was panicked-he's never gotten more than 35 licks, and those had him screaming and unable to sit down for a long time. Doug was worried-50 was more that he'd ever gotten, and after a spanking....

"Dad, I really think it's too much for him-really....He's already been spanked....I mean, I know he needs this strapping, but ...." He said hesitantly. His father glared at him.

"I don't care what you think, Douglas. Any more argument might bring you to the same position your brother's in now, grown-up or not grown-up! I agree, though, that he might not be able to take it all at once. We'll do 25, and then he can have some time in the corner, then the rest. You got a problem with that?" Doug could only shake his head in acceptance. "Good. Let's go already, I'm tired."

"If you want to postpone this till tomorrow morning...." Pacey suggested. He was sure that by the next day he could be gone-as far away as he could.

"Shut up, you idiot." His father snapped at him harshly. "And try to be quiet-you wouldn't want the neighbors to hear you, now.

"Dad, please....It's not fair....I don't deserve so many...." Pacey pleaded frantically. His father wouldn't listen. He doubled up the belt and swung hard. Pacey gasped as a flaming line of pain crossed his butt, then bit his lower lip to stop himself from gasping again as another joined it. He'd hoped that now that he was older it would hurt less, but the belt hurt even more that he remembered. After five licks he was hissing after every blow, straining to keep quiet and still.

The tenth blow landed on the joining of his legs and buttcheeks, and he bucked hard, nearly pulling his hands out of Doug's grip. Tears filled his eyes and spilled out as he cursed himself for his weakness and his father for making him show it. By now he was going on willpower and anger to stay more-or-less calm, but those didn't last long. His father swung again and again, and by the 16th lick Pacey was crying quietly, still trying to hide his tears. He lifted his face for a second, and saw his brother look at him with such pity in his eyes that he lost whatever control he had left. He started sobbing hard, focusing on the pain in his butt, lost in a haze of agony. Tears ran down his face and soaked into the couch. His entire world consisted, for the moment, on the cracking of the belt, and the white-hot pain in his rear. Each hard lick brought more tears with it. Then the pain stopped. Not completely, but there was only the throbbing pain that had already been there-it wasn't getting worse. Pacey realized that his dad had stopped, and was talking to him.

"25 down, 25 to go." John said as he hauled his son over the couch and to his feet, "Get into that corner!" Pacey stumbled blindly, one hand rubbing hard at his behind, the other scrubbing at his eyes. He fell to his knees in the corner of the room, then toppled over and lay on his side, sobbing and gasping for breath. John crossed his arms and announced, "Half an hour. I'm gonna get myself some coffee." He started walking to the kitchen. "You want anything?" he asked Doug, who was sitting on the floor in a daze. He looked up, startled. "What? Um, no thanks...." He replied. John shrugged and left.

Doug looked at his brother, feeling slightly sick. He'd never seen anyone crying like this. Pacey's behind was the color of red brick, and was turning purple or blue in places. He knew his brother shouldn't be left alone, and he was the only person around....He sat down next to Pacey, and touched his head gingerly. Pacey's head snapped around, his eyes wild and haunted, as well was red and puffy from crying. Doug handed him a tissue.

"There-blow your nose. Take a deep breath-that's it." Doug patted his brother's shoulder with awkward sympathy he didn't know how to express. Pacey just went on crying so hard he was almost hyperventilating. "Bro, relax....Just....Calm down....You'll be alright."

"No....Won't...." Pacey whispered brokenly. He turned his head away and tried to breathe, but every in-drawn breath came out as a sob. He tried holding his breath and freezing his chest, but couldn't stop crying. He was beyond self-consciousness or humiliation. Slowly, as the searing pain in his butt faded to a burn, then an ache, his sobs calmed down slightly, and turned into shuddering breath. Pacey suddenly noticed that he was freezing, half-naked as he was on the bare floor. Doug seemed to notice this with greater sensitivity that usual, and brought him a light cover from the sofa. Pacey tried to smile gratefully, but found that he couldn't. Minutes later, just when he was getting warmer, John came back.

"Half hour is up." He said without looking, then stopped. "Is this your doing, Douglas?" he asked, lines of anger appearing on his face, "This cover, and the fact that he's not standing up as ordered?" Doug had no choice but to nod unhappily, no he was in trouble too. "Very well, you've just earned your brother five more licks." Doug was horrified-that wasn't fair! Not that he could expect any fairness when his dad was in a bad mood, but this was even worse than he'd expected.

"Dad....Sir, that's unfair." He said, "Pacey didn't ask me to help him, I just wanted to. He shouldn't be punished for that."

"But he will be, and there will be not argument from you, or I'll make it ten extra!" John yelled, "Now get him back into position!" Doug clenched his fists, but years of painful experience had taught him not to talk back to his father. He squeezed Pacey's hand as he helped him up by way of apology, but didn't dare to say anything.

"Alright, let's get this over with already." John said impatiently as he prepared to swing. Pacey braced himself and screwed his eyes shut, but the horrible, burning, unavoidable pain started again as, in two licks, his father rekindled the fire in his already welted ass. This time John explored new territory, moving down almost to Pacey's knees, but no any further up than the very top of his tan-line. Sheriff Witter knew where the beatings he dished out wouldn't be noticeable to others. Less than half way through Pacey'd given up struggling and just lay over the couch, wailing like a baby. Some shred of dignity tried to rear its head, reminding him that he was older, he could, and will, be able to take all 50 licks. 55, he reminded himself. Dignity was overruled as Pacey just concentrated on breathing through the pain. One red-hot line of fire blazed upon his mind, only to meld into the general pain and be replaced by the next one. On some level Pacey was aware that he was crying out at every blow now, but he didn't care, he just wanted it to stop....

When it did stop, again, he didn't notice it at first. There was blessed silence, undisturbed by the cracking of the belt, and Doug's vice-hold on his wrists had relaxed, but he didn't register and change in the pain-level. He blinked several times, trying to clear the tears from his eyes, only to have them fill again. He heard his father mention the words, "Grounded....at least a month...." And with a detached and twisted humor thought-what am I gonna do all this time, literally standing about at home? Then he remembered that he'd be running away at the first chance he got, and allowed himself to go on whimpering.

They gave him about 15 minutes to calm down. Doug helped him upstairs to his room, and left him on his bed, still crying. When he returned about half an hour later, Pacey'd stopped sobbing, but tears still leaked down his face.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Doug whispered. Pacey shook his head slightly. "It's about 4 am. You've certainly kept us up. Here, I brought some aloe for your butt." Pacey shook his head again. "Come on, bro. It must hurt like hell-it'll feel better, really." He glanced at his brother's behind and winced-it was welted and bruised in places, and looked very sore indeed. "Don't you want it to feel better?"

Pacey nodded at that. His bottom felt as if the whole top layer of skin had been removed, and the nerve ends filed to a point. Then he nodded again, slowly this time. He turned to lie on his stomach and allowed Doug to spread aloe on his butt. His eyes filled with fresh tears and he gasped when Doug touched him, but he lay still, then sighed with relief as his behind started to cool down slightly. "Thanks." He whispered.

"Any time. I hope you've got what you wanted now." Doug replied. Pacey stared at him, confused. "Usually when a person does something stupid and dangerous, like do drugs, or drink, or go to illegal parties-even try to kill themselves, it's because they need attention. I hope you got all the attention you wanted." He explained.

"Where did you learn that, bro? Boy-Scout psych. 101?"

"No." Doug said, "Saw it in a movie once, then I went and read a book about it. It helps me understand the juvenile delinquents of Capeside. Led, if I might add," Doug tapped a finger on his brother's forehead, "-by you, little brother."

"I don't need your understanding, and I definitely don't need your attention." Pacey snapped. "Now go away, I want to sleep." He turned away. Doug sighed.

"You know and I know that we won't get any sleep tonight, so you might as well talk to me." It took Pacey a long time to reply.

"The old man hates me. So do you. What else do I need to know." He said, the anguish clear in his voice.

"I don't hate you-most of the time, at least. I may not like you much, but I don't hate you. I'm sure even dad has some love for you somewhere...."

"Well I'm not." Despairing conviction shone in Pacey's eyes. "And I hate him too, so it's OK." He pointed at an old scruffy duffel bag in the corner of his room. " See that?" Doug nodded. "That's my 'running away' bag. Packed it for the first time when I was 6 and I saw dad toss you all around the living room for cheating on a test." Doug winced at the memory. "Only used it once, when Dawson an' I ran away together when we were 8."

"I remember that too, " Doug interrupted, "Dad was pissed, but Mitch had already punished you both so he let you go." Pacey nodded.

"Tomorrow I'm gonna take this bag, and all the money I have, and I'm gonna take the first bus out and go as far as I possibly can, and hope he never catches up. Not that he'd want to." Pacey added hastily.

"Crying out for attention again." Doug said dryly. "That's quitter talk, Pace. Besides being stupid. You won't be able to survive 5 minutes in the real world. I understand, but I wouldn't recommend it."

"Why the hell not?" Pacey asked angrily, "And who are you to tell me what to do?"

"I'm your older, more experienced, less naive brother. Stay at home; trust in Mom to save you from the worst of it like I did, even if she can't stop it completely. Finish highschool, then go to college for a few years. You don't have to come back after that." Doug saw that Pacey was crying again, but it didn't seem to be because of pain.

"Mom....Thinks I'm a worthless slob, same as dad does." Pacey sniffed miserably. "She's never home, anyway. Sometimes I just want to get so drunk I'll walk into a tree and kill myself...." He buried his head in his pillow.

"Pacey, cut the crap and cut the drama, OK? One more of those threats and I'll spank you again, till you scream. Is that clear?" Doug stood up, angry now. "Self pity isn't like you."

"Well, screw that." Pacey went pale at Doug's warning. "You wouldn't dare."

"Watch me." Doug landed three swats on Pacey's bum. He gasped at the first, whimpered at the second, and howled in pain at the third. "There. Easy, wasn't it?" He walked to the door. "I'm staying here tonight, and you're staying here tomorrow. In fact, I don't think you'll be able to do much more than lie tomorrow, and you certainly won't be able to sit, on a bus or anywhere else. Good night." He turned off the light on his way out.

Pacey contemplated running away, but then turned on his back out of habit, a move he immediately regretted. For the first time in years, he cried himself to sleep.


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