Rating: PG-13 for language
Warnings: Fic contains the spanking of a minor by his father
Author's Website: Atalantaj's LiveJournal
Dean walked into the apartment and shook his head, closing the front door very quickly and locking it. Sam was back. That much was obvious from the back and forth screaming match going on in the bedroom, between him and their father. Dean was getting sick of their fighting. He was getting sick of Sam too. He was trying to relate to his little brother, working on understanding the kid's tantrums, his outright disobedience and stubbornness at every turn, and his need to make it near impossible to live with, by always picking fights, and refusing to do everything that was asked of him, but he couldn't sympathize with him anymore. Dad was trying to keep the three of them together. He was trying to keep Sam safe, and all the kid could do was be a spoiled and selfish brat.
All Sam wanted was to leave them, and from the looks of things that's exactly what he was going to do, especially if he got into any of the colleges he secretly applied too, and Dean was pretty sure geek boy was getting into all of them. The kid was beyond smart and had gotten a really good S.A.T score. He also had straight A's and did volunteer work after school. Dean knew, because he made it a point, to know everything about Sam's business.
He even had a hunch as to where Sam had gone on his latest disappearing act; a temporary solution to Sam's problem of having to come home to a family until college came through. He made sure he knew where his brother was at, at all times after that incident in Flagstaff when Sam ran away on his watch, and this time he had shared his guess with dad, but tried to convince him that Sam was fine and that maybe they should let him be for a while, that some quiet time without him might be nice.
Dad had disagreed and hunted Sam down like a "serial killer," and brought him home as his "trophy;" those were Sam's screamed words coming from the next room. Sam apparently hadn't budged either, no big surprise there, God was Sam stubborn. He was dragged out of his "safe house," over John's shoulder like Sam was nothing more than a "piece of meat." Dean clenched his fists, why couldn't his pain in the ass little brother just shut up already?
Dean tried, but he so couldn't feel sorry for Sam at the moment. The kid was pissing him off to no end. He was a little bitch. Why couldn't Sam understand that dad had a right to bring him home? And he wouldn't have "humiliated," Sam like he did, if he came willingly. Sam belonged here with his father and brother. The sooner the kid figured that out the better.
Dean didn't even give a damn about what was going to happen next. Sam had his fun and the kid knew the consequences. There weren't any surprises when it came to the more mundane aspects of their lives, like what happened when you disobeyed dad, you got your ass kicked that's what, but when there was a moment of silence and the hard to mistake sound of a leather belt striking bare flesh; Sam was getting it on the thighs, dad's favorite spots to hit during a spanking, Dean couldn't help but feel bad for the kid and it pissed him off even more.
Sam deserved every stroke he got; still maybe he should have kept a closer eye on his brother, done something from getting Sam in trouble, like not ratting him out. Dean walked toward the bedroom. He put his hand on the door knob. A part of him wanted to go in there and tell their father to stop. It was always like this when Sam got in trouble, but he didn't do anything, not this time. Dad may have been a hard ass but he wasn't abusive. The man was firm but he was also fair.
Dean didn't know why he always had to be his brother's keeper anyway. It wasn't like the kid wanted one. Hell, he didn't even want a family. He was getting ready to leave them. Dean headed back to the front door. Sam might have deserved the spanking but he couldn't listen to it. "Fuck." He grumbled angrily, before stepping outside again. He needed to get out of here too, at least for a little while.
His dad was a fucking asshole, a cocksucker, a motherfucker. He deserved to be eaten by ghouls and cursed by spirits and possessed by a demon, only to be exorcised and left with a broken and useless body. He deserved a poltergeist to kill him, maybe in the morning when he was making coffee, or in the car on a drive to a hunt. He hoped dad would be out camping one day and a Wendigo would attack him. Sam swore that if a Supernatural entity didn't destroy John Winchester first, he was going to do it himself and enjoy it too. Sam hated his father. He was unreasonable, stupid, selfish, narrow minded
"Ow, fuck!" Sam cried out bitterly pounding his fist on the desk he was bent over while his father struck his underwear clad ass and the back of his thighs with a leather belt, and a new one at that from the feel of things, so Sam's butt had finally worn out his father's old belt? Good, it was something to be proud of. Sam couldn't be broken. It was sure as hell something that Dean's obedient, pristine ass couldn't brag about.
Sam continued saying fuck and quite a few other nice words too, but the only response he got from John was, "Watch your mouth Samuel," and the threat of his mouth being washed out with soap, unfucking believable! Sam wasn't a little boy anymore. He wanted to tell his father to watch his own God damn fucking mouth, and was going to say he liked the taste of soap, just to piss his father off some more, but he didn't. He wouldn't stoop down to his father's level. He wouldn't even fight the man over this stupid punishment.
Dad always thought spankings were a cure all for disobedience? He was wrong. His father was dense. The man could hit him all he wanted. It wasn't going to change things. Sam was going to prove that to him. This spanking wasn't going to stop anything. If he didn't want to do research and felt like bailing on a hunt and ditching his stupid ass brother and father that was his business. He was almost an adult and would talk to his father anyway he wanted too.
Hell, he wasn't even going to give his father the satisfaction of tears, because that's probably what the asshole wanted. He tightened the hold he had over the edge of the desk and shook his head. He took a deep breath. He wasn't going to cry, but as the belt continued to fall on his upturned backside and marked the tender skin on the back of his thighs, and his anger and frustration kept building, and yeah John wasn't a lightweight in the spanking department, and each stroke hurt and a lot too. Sam tried, but couldn't stifle all the tears wanting to fall, and a few slipped out of his eyes without his permission. He quickly swiped them away with his hand, and told himself that was it. No more crying. It's what dad wanted so he wasn't getting it.
John finished the spanking with just his hand. He delivered a series of hard swats to Sam's boxer covered ass. It infuriated Sam more, so what, dad felt sorry for him now did he? Wasn't going to use the belt on his poor, little boy anymore, had been too hard on him, and was leaving his thighs alone? That was kindness? Too little, too late old man, Sam seethed. Dad shouldn't have even spanked him in the first place, period. The only thing he was really happy about was how little he had cried during all of this. It was his triumph. He bet dad hadn't even seen him wipe those few tears away, and he was more than showing his dad what an idiot the man was for spanking him.
John finally stopped and told him he wasn't to leave the apartment, and Sam did something he was damn proud of. He turned around, looked his father in the eyes and told him "Thanks dad, that was fun, let's do it again," before quickly putting his pants on, grabbing a magazine and throwing himself into a chair as if sitting was the most comfortable thing in the whole god damn fucking beautiful world right now.
It hurt like hell to sit. It had been painful for Sam to even pull up his jeans. The back of his thighs and his ass were aching and burning. Sitting made him wince and want to whimper and squirm, but he didn't move. He smiled at his dad, until the man asked him coldly "You sure you want to do this again Sam? I'm ready right now." Sam's eyes got real wide and without his permission he shook his head and cried out "No," and his tears made a rather spectacular and embarrassing comeback, and fuck he wasn't feeling so triumphant anymore.
Why did his father have to always win? Why? His dad wasn't supposed to make him cry. He was supposed to be tough and
Dad picked up the belt again and grabbed him by the arm, but after one look at his face which Sam knew had quickly turned into a red, wet and snotty mess, John shook his head, released his arm, grunted and headed out of the room.
What the fuck had he done to his child? Christ, Sam was so angry. There wasn't a trace of John's happy smiling boy in that teenager in the next room, hadn't been for some time. "God damn it!" John yelled throwing his belt across the room. He stormed to a shelf in the living room and knocked over the stereo system with his hand. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he so fucking hard on Sam? Sam just wanted to be a normal teenager why couldn't John even give him that?
He couldn't give him that because it wouldn't keep Sam safe. That's why. No way in hell was his youngest in any sort of danger from all the horrible things out there if his brother and father were there to protect him. Sam was kept safe by following directions and not wandering off on his own whenever the hell he wanted, without telling anyone anything. He was safe when he was researching their latest hunt or physically training to keep himself fit and strong. Why was that so hard for Sam to understand and accept?
John wasn't sure how much more arguing with Sam he could handle though, and how many more times he could take his hand or a belt to the kid's ass, in the hopes of convincing Sam that he was just trying to keep him safe and he needed to do what was asked of him. It was getting to be too much, for the both of them. John wondered what he could do. He couldn't just stand by and let Sam do whatever he wanted. He was completely out of control and insubordinate. He had tried other forms of discipline and they didn't work. Hell, he had even tried talking to the kid, to see what was wrong, only to be ignored.
Why was he acting up so much? John had even considered possession making Sam so angry. It was a long shot but he put holy water in the kid's orange juice every morning, just to check. Possession he could deal with an angry teenage boy he couldn't, but the kid guzzled the orange juice down like it was the nectar of the Gods and asked for more. He even did research to see if there was something else supernatural for his son's behavior, but nothing. John figured he was responsible for it.
John lay down on his bed which was the couch. Their current apartment had only one bedroom and the boys got it. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. His heart was beating incredibly fast and he was a little short of breath, and his head was throbbing. He could feel a migraine coming on, but he deserved it. Anyone who made their son as upset as Sam was right now, deserved to feel like shit. Anyone as incompetent as he was in the fatherhood department deserved the same. John decided he had screwed up his children in different ways.
Damn it! He had almost lost his cool in there too. Sam was so God damn stubborn. John couldn't believe his son had the sack to tell him thanks and that the spanking was fun and they should do it again, yeah, Sam it was a lot of fun that would explain your cussing and trying not to cry, but the way he threw himself down into that chair just to spite him. Christ, Sam always knew exactly what to do to get under his skin. John had been serious about going another round too. The only thing he wanted to do in there was smack that smirk off his insolent son's face. Show Sam who was in charge and make sure he knew understood and respected that.
What the hell was wrong with him? This wasn't Sam's fault. It was his. Sam was his kid. He made him this way. He shouldn't let Sam get to him like this. He was the adult here. Sam had been so angry though. John could practically see his son's anger coming off of him in waves, and he was the cause of it, then the teary and scared face, guess John got what he wanted; only it wasn't.
He didn't want Sam afraid of him. He just wanted his respect that's it. He had made his son hate and fear him? Why? God, what he'd give to just have a conversation with Sam. One that didn't end in screaming. What he'd give to hug Sam again. The way his little boy would practically jump into his arms when John would return from a hunt. It was gone.
John waited half an hour before knocking on the bedroom door. He wanted to make sure Sam was okay, wanted to at least attempt the resolution process, talking for a bit would be wonderful. The only response he got from Sam though was an angry "Go to hell!" John pounded his fist on the door. He wasn't going to put up with this shit. He saw his belt on the floor and picked it up. It was a lot thinner than the last one he had. He thought the other one was too thick for spanking with, but maybe he was wrong and should find a similar one. He about stormed into the bedroom again. He wanted to have this out with Sam once and for all, but no. He walked to the trash can in the kitchen and dropped the belt in there before heading out and slamming the front door behind him. Dean could take care of Sam. He gave up.
Thank you for reading!
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