Author: Crazydutchgirl

Prompt: #15 Cars

Rating: PG

Type of Story: General

Author's Website: None

Author's Note: Supernatural and its characters don't belong to me.

Hurts my motor to go so slow

John Winchester looked over his shoulder to see his youngest asleep in the backseat. Finally. He looked over at Dean who was riding shotgun and he could see the bags under the kid's eyes, even under the black one. John wished the boy would just go to sleep but knew he wouldn't out of solidarity to him. 'Not fair to the driver', Dean would say and apparently his son knew how tired John had to be because he even tried to suppress his yawns. God, he loved his kids but today had not been one of the best days. John pulled his hand down over his face. 20 more miles.

Today had not been a good day at all, and to make matters even worse, it had also been a *LONG* day.

They'd started out early that afternoon to drive up to Bobby's for the weekend but spent the better part of they day, or to use Dean's words, 'all goddamn day', in the mother of all traffic jams. John loved driving, he always had, but sitting in the car and driving slowly, not to mention standing still, for seven hours with two teenaged boys was something John hoped he'd never have to relive.

=Earlier that day=

John sighed, they'd been going less than, or 10 miles tops, for the last 30 minutes and it was more than obvious that a traffic jam was bound to happen.

'Dammit, this *SUCKS*', Dean said, gritting his teeth and all but hitting the dashboard.

John looked sideways at his 17-year-old and raised his eyebrow, 'Keep up the language and you will be the one driving.'

At any other given moment Dean would've eagerly jumped at the opportunity but not now, not in this horrible jam. 'Shutting it', Dean said and held up his hand to non-verbally tell his dad he'd be backing off.

'Good' John said, 'cause otherwise this is going to be a long day'.


Two hours passed and they had moved forward a grand total of 1.7 mile. Dean had been listening to a few songs on every single tape he could find in the car and had even sorted out the glove compartment, kid just couldn't sit still or relax. Sam had been reading one of his books in the backseat but was starting to get restless too,

'Dad? How much longer?'

'I don't know Sam, could be a while.'

Sam sighed, 'I'm bored and don't want to be in the car anymore.'

Dean snorted and sneered at his brother sarcastically, 'Then why don't you get out and magically fix this damn jam?'

'Dean', John warned, his tone saying enough. He was getting pretty fed up with the slow driving himself but he was not in the mood for any arguments between his boys.

'What?!' Dean asked, 'he's the one complaining!'. Sam huffed, crossed his arms while rolling his eyes and mumbled, 'Am not'.

'Just leave each other alone', John said tiredly and stared ahead of him, seeing nothing but cars, cars, *cars* and more cars.

Ten minutes past before Sam spoke up again, 'Why is Dean is always riding shotgun?'

John sighed inwardly but before he could answer, Dean spoke up, 'Cause I'm the oldest', and dismissed Sam's question with a cool smirk.

'Not the smartest though', Sam mumbled, not intending for anyone to hear but Dean launched himself over the back of the seat within seconds and started pounding on what he could reach of Sam. Sam in return tried to kick Dean back into the front seat while backing up against the door as much as he could.

'Dean! Sam!', John tried but no response, '*BOYS!!!*', John bellowed while grabbing Dean's shoulders and firmly pulling him back into the front seat. He eyed Sam while doing so,

'What the hell has gotten into you two?!'

'Did you hear what he said?!'

'I did Dean, no reason to start in on you brother like that though', John saw the smile on Sam's face, 'No reason to smile about it either, young man'. Sam quickly wiped the smile of his face, 'Yes Sir'.

'Now', John said, looking from Dean to Sam, 'I don't want anymore of these shenanigans, you hear me?'. Dean nodded and Sam crossed his arms again, staring out the window. 'I know we all want to get out of here', John continued, 'and I know it's even tighter quarters than a motel room usually is but the bottom line is that we are stuck with each other until this gets sorted, you boys got that?'. Dean was quick to agree but there was no response from Sam in the backseat and John looked in his rear-view mirror, 'Sam?'. Sam looked up and found his father's eyes looking at him. 'You got that Samuel?', John asked again. Sam turned his eyes away from his father and nodded, 'Yes Sir'. Yep, this was going to be a long day.


'I'm hungry'

'Sammy', John said while he was trying to keep his patience, 'I told you, I got some sandwiches in the back but let's wait a little longer, we have no idea how long this is going to take..'

'Dean has M&Ms', Sam whined.

'You little shit!', Dean said while glaring at this younger brother.


'Well he is!'

John reached over and smacked the back of Dean's head.

'Owww, DAD!'

'Do you?', John asked calmly while Dean rubbed the back of his head and glared at his dad accusingly,

'Do I what?'

'Have M&Ms, Dean...'


'Share some with your brother. He's hungry', John stated.

Dean snorted, 'He's just looking for any excuse to piss me off'

'Dean...', John said, even though he knew his son was right.

'Fine!' Dean shook some M&Ms out of the bag and threw them over his shoulder into the back of the car. Sam never saw the little projectiles coming until they hit him, full force, on his head and body,

'DEAN!! Oowww!' Sam exclaimed, 'DAD!! He hit me!'

'I didn't!'

'You did!'

'The M&Ms did.'

John tightened his grip on the steering wheel and closed his eyes to count till ten, he was not going to loose his temper.

Sam, now looking for revenge, launched himself forward and grabbed the bag of M&Ms our of Dean's hands,

'What the fu...hell' Dean said as the bag was pulled out of his hands. Dean was back over the seat in a blink of an eye tried to grab the bag back from Sam and punching him in the arm as he went along. Sam was shrieking and tried to shove Dean away from him as fiercely as he could.

John stopped at eight, That was it, he *WAS* going to loose his temper.

John let go of the steering wheel, and placed a hard swat on Dean's upturned behind over the front seat and pulled him back into his own . Dean looked at his dad shocked,

'OW! Dad!! He...'

John held up his hand, 'Not a word, Dean, not one word'

Dean shrugged himself out of John's grip and rolled his eyes. He looked out of the window and started to pout. John turned his attention to his youngest troublemaker in the back and motioned for Sam to give him the bag,

'Give me the bag, Sam'


'Samuel, NOW!', John raised his voice a little.

A frown and a pout formed on Sam's face but he wasn't about to give the bag back to his dad. John turned all the way around and reached for the bag of M&Ms in his son's hand. After taking it from the boy, he smacked Sam's butt, or what he could reach of it, hard. Sam yelled and John could see genuine tears in the eyes of his youngest but he was done with this kind of behaviour,

'This stops now, Samuel' he said and turned back to sit in his seat, M&Ms safely tucked in the pocket of his own jacket.

'Great', Dean mumbled, 'spending all goddamn day in a traffic jam without M&Ms'

John thought he'd made his point but he obviously hadn't. He sighed and got out of the car, slamming the door. Dean saw his father go 'round the front of the car and was too stunned to even look back at his brother who had the same dear-in-headlights expression on his face. Dean wasn't sure what he did but it sure as heck felt as if he went too far. John opened the passenger door and Dean looked up at his dad,

'I'm sorry Dad'

'Get out Dean'

'But I'm really sorry..', Dean tried again.

'Dean, I told you what would happen if you didn't cut out the language, you can drive from now on, maybe that will give you something else to focus on'

Dean blushed and slowly got out of the car, hoping none of the people in the other cars were looking at them. Dean got out of the car way to slowly for John's liking and he grabbed his son by the upper arm and dragged him out before turning him around and swatting the kid's backside again,

'Get in the drivers seat, now'

Dean flinched but nodded and practically ran around the car and got back in.


It was close to 7.30pm and they'd been stuck in traffic for the last five hours. John let the boys have some sandwiches about an hour ago but made sure they'd both saved some of their food, in case this was going to last through till tomorrow morning. He hoped it wouldn't come that far. John leaned back into the passenger's seat and closed his eyes. He seemed to have made an impression on both boys earlier because things had been quiet since then.

Dean watched his father relax and hated that he had been assigned to driving but he didn't complain, his dad had been pretty edgy before and if Dean learned anything over the years it was not to piss off an edgy John Winchester even more. Sammy however, didn't seem to understand this yet. Dean tried his best to ignore Sam but it was hard. The little brat was kicking against the back of his seat methodically just to get a reaction out of his older brother.

Sam kept on kicking the seat, harder, softer, faster, slower and any which way he could think of. Dean looked in the rear-view mirror just to see Sam flash and angelic smile at him. There were two things Dean wanted to do at the moment, one was to push his foot down on the accelerator as hard as he could and the other was to knock that smile off of Sammy's face. Dean gritted his teeth and sighed since neither options were possible at the moment. He couldn't believe Sammy was pushing him this much.

Another 10 minutes went by and Dean couldn't take it anymore. He hated ratting on his brother and he'd rather keep things quiet, not wanting anything to escalate. He would've gotten Sammy back once they were at Bobby's but he was fed up and tired and just wanted Sam to stop, 'Dad, can you tell Sam to stop kicking the back of my seat?'

Sam sat up straight right away, 'I'm not doing anything!'

John eyed both his sons and then looked at Sam, 'Make sure you aren't Sam'.

Sam nodded and looked up to see Dean look at him in the mirror again, Sam stuck out his tongue and grinned before putting his hands behind his head and leaning back into the backseat. Dean shook his head, ready to let it all go when he felt Sam's foot against his seat again.

'That's it!', Dean yelled and turned around to face Sam. Sam who was just about to aim another kick a little higher than he had been doing before got startled by his brothers outburst and aimed too high. Dean had just turned around to put a stop to all this and before he knew it the heel of Sam's foot hit him right in the eye. The pain was unbearable and Dean covered his eye with his hand, cursing out loud and making himself as small as he could. Sam looked at his brother with his mouth open,

'Oh my God, Dean are you ok? I'm so sorry, are you ok?', Sam reached out to put his hand on Dean's shoulder but Dean shrugged it off, obviously in tears,

'Don't touch me!'.

John gently removed Sam's hand from Dean's shoulder and looked at his youngest, 'I think it would be wise for you to sit back and keep quiet, I'll deal with you in a few minutes'. Sam swallowed and nodded, trying to keep back his own tears and sat back in his seat.

John rested his own hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezed it gently, 'Dean, buddy, can you look up for a second?'. Dean groaned and looked up, hand still covering his eye, tears streaming down his face. It was getting dark out but John could still see that this was going to be one heck of a black eye. 'I'm gonna get ya some ice,' he said and looked at Sam in the backseat, 'you', pointing his finger in Sam's direction, 'don't move'.

John got out of the car and opened the trunk, he was glad he brought the green cooler with some soda and ice. John searched for a shirt in his duffel bag, grabbed some ice cubes and wrapped them into the shirt before closing the trunk and opening the door on the drivers side. John helped Dean out, closed the door and guided him to the other side of the car, putting him back into the passenger's seat. He then handed Dean the shirt with the ice cubes, 'Keep this on your eye for as long as I tell you to, okay?' Dean nodded and hissed when the cold cloth touched his skin. 'You okay, bud?' John asked and Dean nodded again and breathed back a few tears, 'Yea, I'm okay, dad'.

John carefully closed the door and leaned against the car for a few moments, he really had hoped that things wouldn't get out of hand today but he should've known better. Well, no, *Sam* should've known better. The kid was smart and he was smart enough to figure out when to push his brother and dad's buttons and when not but ever since teenage hormones had started running through his body, things had been different. John sighed and opened the backdoor of the car and slid into the backseat. He closed the door with a little force to emphasis the mood he was in and was pleased to see Sam flinch,

'I'd like to know how your foot ended up in Dean's face', John said while raising his eyebrow. Sam was glad that it was getting to be dark because he was blushing like crazy,

', ...'m not sure?'

'Were you kicking the back of his seat?', John asked. Sam looked down, he really didn't want to answer that because none of the answers available were going to get him out of trouble here.


Sam looked up at his father and bit down on his lip and slowly nodded. John sighed,

'So you lied when you said you weren't doing anything?', John asked again, getting more and more annoyed with his son.

'Yes Sir', Sam whispered

'Right, then let's get this over with'

John motioned for Sam to scoot over and patted his lap,

'Jeans down please'

Sam looked at his dad nervously, he knew he deserved this but it was not something you'd just surrender yourself to, and specially not in the backseat of the car. But he also knew that this was what happened when you misbehaved in the Winchester household and that fighting it was only going to make things worse. He slowly opened his button and pushed the jeans half way down his thighs, thanking the Lord for creating darkness. John didn't waste any time, he grabbed Sam's upper arm and pulled him face down over his knee. John was glad Sam didn't go through his grow spurt yet, otherwise this wouldn't not have been possible. He patted the boy's backside lightly and pulled down Sam's underwear,

'I'm afraid we're going to have to do this the right way son'

Sam shivered a little when his father took his underwear down and braced himself. John raised his hand and brought it down sharply across the upturned bottom over his knee. He was not going to let anything like this happen again. Sam flinched and John was certain that Dean flinched too. Sam tried not to squirm, he forgot how hard his father could spank. His father's hand sharply connected with his behind again,

'Ow! Dad! I'm soooo sorrry', the apology came, and before Sam knew it he was in tears. He wasn't sobbing, they were real tears, tears of guilt and tears of sorrow.

John raised his hand again, knowing that besides having earned this spanking, this was exactly what Sammy needed to let go. He brought his hand down on the boy's sit spot. John's hand continued to fall and Sam started breathing heavier and the crying became uncontrollable.

'We going to have an episode like this in the car again?' John asked, while resting his hand on Sam's bottom.

'Never ever, ever again, Dad, I promise! I'm so sorry!' The pleads and promises kept coming for a few more minutes and John placed a dozen swats on the lower curves of Sam's behind and finished off with eight hard swats to his son's sit spot. John carefully pulled Sam's underwear and jeans back up and helped his son up before wrapping his arms around the boy as tight as possible,

'I'm really sorry, Dad'

'I know son, we've dealt with it'

Sam felt more tears surfacing and buried his head in his father's shirt. John's hand carefully stroked his son's hair, 'It's over Sammy, it's okay'.

'I know, but I didn't mean to hurt Dean, I'm so sorry', Sam said, trying to keep his voice steady.

'Why did you think it was wise to piss off your brother in the first place, Sammy?', John asked and he put his arm around his boy.

'I was bored....and when I'm bored Dean usually helps me get un-bored'

'Un-bored huh?' John asked, trying not to smile, 'Well lucky you 'cause you won't be bored this weekend', John smiled down at his son who was still snuggled up close to him. 'I'm afraid to ask..', Sam groaned.

'I'm not.' a voice piped up from the passenger's seat.

'Not funny, Dean', Sam said, leaning his head closely against his father's chest.

'Black eye, not funny either, Sam', Dean replied. John shook his head, and wondered how his boys turned out to be such smart-asses. 'How's that eye doing, Dean?', he asked.

'It's okay, hurts but it's okay Dad, I think I can take the ice off'.

'The ice stays on a little longer', John said, hoping that it would take away most of the swelling.

'Yes Sir'.

'Good boys', John said and ruffled Sam's hair, 'Now, you young man are going to lie down and get some sleep, I'll wake you up when we get to Bobby's'. John grabbed a blanket from underneath the front seat and handed it to Sam before getting out of the car and climbing into the driver's seat once again.


The traffic jam lasted another twenty minutes after John had ordered Sam to get some sleep and they'd been driving down the open road again for the last two hours. It had taken Sam a while to actually fall asleep, lots of complaining about not being able to find a comfortable spot until John had made an idle threat about coming back there once more. The kid had fallen asleep within minutes.

John yawned and saw Dean follow suit, 20 more miles and this day would be over. John swore to himself that he was never getting stuck in another traffic jam with his two boys again. It was Dean's birthday next month, maybe he should consider giving Dean the old Impala and getting that new truck he saw for himself, kid was growing up and it would be helpful to have an extra set of wheels around. Because this, *this*, was never happening again.

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