Between the worlds - THE GAME (Supernatural)

My responsibility

"See you, Bob."

With these words, Gabe went out of the office and leaned against the door with a deep sigh.

He can't mean that. Damn it!

Robert hadn't blamed him, but he felt he'd screwed it up. A glance at the clock reminds him that his wife was probably already worried.

Sam turned on the stove and warmed up the now-cold dinner, wondering where her husband would stay for so long.

Indeed he's still chatting with Bob. Men ...

Moments later, a loud bang as the door slammed shut. The young woman peered around the corner and walked towards Gabriel, who looked somehow stressed.

"Hey, took a long time."

He sat at the table, rested his head on his hands, and sighed without saying a word.

"Everything okay?"

Sam sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's all shit," he murmured, annoyed, and looked at her with sad eyes.

His wife was immediately alerted, eyebrows raising with an expectant look.

"We hafta fire eight team members, and Robert leaves the decision to me."

Gabriel drank the glass of wine in one go and sighed again.

"I'm sorry," Sam replied sympathetically.

"I should decide that. I don't want that; how am I supposed to do that? They all belong to the family."

Sullenly, he poked around in his food and then pushed it aside. He was sorry that Samantha had made an effort but wasn't hungry.

"Punish me."

Gabriel looked her straight in the eye, but only a half-hearted snort escaped her.

"What? You can't help it!"

"Sure. I'm to blame. I've failed. I wanted too much; it's up to me. Punish me," he murmured in agitation, but Samantha shook her head.

By all means, she tried to calm her husband, but to see him so desperate made her heart bleed.

"I can also go out and walk ten miles through the cold, wet landscape, then I get pneumonia and don't hafta worry about anything. Or you do that. For fuck's sake, it may not be my fault, but I feel it ... I hafta exhaust myself. Please help me with that!"

That pleading tone in his voice made her feel chaotic, but when he took her hands and looked directly into her eyes, Samantha knew what she had to do, even if she had to swallow the rising tears. So that isn't how she'd imagined the evening together, but if that helped, then ... sure.

"Go take a shower, and then you'll wait for me in the playroom; I'll do the dishes."

He nodded, gave her a small smile, and left.

Dressed only with his collar, he knelt at her feet and had his eyes lowered until he got the command. She put the riding crop under his chin.

"Look at me!"

Slowly, his head lifted, and he looked straight into her eye.

"So you think you deserve that I'm causing you pain?"

"I want you to whip me, my love. And please don't be reserved."

These words tightened Sam's heart, but she nodded, fetched the wooden paddle, the flogger, and the thick cane, and put the tools on the table in front of him.