Prompt: #20 Discipline
Type of Story: General
Author's Website: Kara_Winchester's LJ
Author's Note: Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Winchesters, and I am in Eric Kripke's debt for creating them J
Disrespect, Detention, Disobedience, and Discipline
"This is so unfair! I don't understand why you won't let me go!" Sam shouted, seemingly oblivious to the look of annoyance spreading across his father's face.
"Samuel, you know perfectly well why I can't let you go," John replied sternly. "Spending the night at someone else's house is far too dangerous. You won't be protected. That's not to mention the fact that getting too close to other people will make it harder for you when we leave."
"Everyone goes to sleepovers all the time without protection and they're just fine!" yelled Sam, ignoring his father's warning tone. "You just don't want me to have friends cause of your stupid job!"
John had been reasonable up to this point, but hearing his youngest undermine his career and disrespect his authority sent him over the edge. Before Sam could realize what was happening, John had sat down in his recliner and tugged the boy over his lap.
"Our line of work is important, Samuel," John said crisply, landing several sharp spanks on the seat of his son's jeans. "You know better than to question what we do, and you certainly know better than to speak to me in that tone of voice." With that, John landed at least another two dozen spanks to Sam's bottom, before setting him back on his feet.
Typically, a spanking was enough to pacify either one of the boys and make them see the error of their ways, even a short spanking like the one Sam had just received. This time, however, John was surprised to see Sam glare furiously at him through his tear filled eyes.
"I HATE you!" Sam yelled, trying to stop himself from sobbing out loud. "You never listen to me! You never let me do anything! You just spank me every time I want to do something normal, just because I hate your stupid job! You're mean and I hate you!" His voice shook several times, breaking completely at the end.
John felt his breath hitch in his throat as his angry little boy screamed at him. After fifteen years of being a father, John had certainly had his share of arguments with both of his sons. But never in all those years had one of his boys said that they hated him. He knew that Sam wasn't thrilled with hunting, and he knew that they both hated being spanked, but he never thought that it would cause either of them so much anger. Still, no matter how upset Sammy was, it gave him no right to disrespect his father in that way and John felt a wave of fury boiling beneath his skin.
He grabbed Sam by his shoulders and pulled him in close between his knees. Sam gulped, but he held his father's gaze with a look of defiance in his eyes.
"You can hate me all you want, Samuel," John said icily, maintaining a firm grip on the boy. "But you know damn well that I only spank you when you deserve it, and I don't do it because I'm 'mean'." And your disrespectful outburst has me thinking that you are in need of a serious butt warming, and I intend to give you one as soon as I calm down. I suggest you get up to your room until I completely lose my temper. I want you to stay there for the rest of the night, and you think really hard about your attitude, young man. And tonight, before you go to bed, you can count on one hell of a spanking. Do you understand me?"
Sam wanted desperately to talk to his father. He had felt guilty as soon as the hurtful words had left his mouth, and he wanted to apologize. Also, he couldn't shake the feeling that his father was being unfair, and he was still angry that John had spanked him for wanting to go to a stupid sleepover. So, without even a 'yes sir', he wrenched himself out of John's grasp and fled to his room, tears streaming down his face.
John watched his miserable little boy run out of the room, feeling pretty miserable himself. He hated the fact that he couldn't give his sons a normal life, couldn't let them do the things that normal kids did. Still, he knew in his heart that he was right for raising them the way he did, keeping them close and safe, and disciplining them when they needed it.
He realized that he did feel guilty for spanking Sam for expressing his feelings. He tried to reason that the boy had been disrespectful, but he kept coming to the conclusion that he had reacted too quickly and harshly.
As John sat in the recliner, brooding over how to handle the situation, Dean came whistling through the front door, stopping when he saw the distraught look on his father's face.
"Dad?" he asked concernedly. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Sammy?'
John rubbed his hand over his face wearily before responding. "Your brother and I had a pretty bad fight. I wouldn't let him go to this sleepover party at his friend's house, and he got mouthy with me. I spanked him, and he told me he hated me. I lost my temper and told him that I'd spank him again before bed for his attitude."
Dean's eyes widened a little at that statement. "Dad, he didn't mean that
he's still a little kid. He doesn't hate you, he just gets upset sometimes. I know he didn't mean it."
John sighed deeply, wanting to believe that Dean's words were true. "Dean, do you think I'm too hard on you boys? Do you resent me for keeping you so close? Do you ever hate me for spanking you?"
Dean looked stunned that his dad would even consider asking him such questions. It was very unlike him to ask his for his sons' opinions, particularly when it came to his parenting. John did keep his sons close, and nearly all instances of disobedience or disrespect were answered with a trip over his knee. Dean understood why John was so strict, though, and he rarely thought to question him.
"Dad, what we do is dangerous," Dean answered simply. "It's important that we stick together as a family. And yeah, it sucks getting
but I know you do it because
well because you love us," Dean finished, blushing slightly.
John gazed at his son, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride at the man Dean was becoming. He was relieved that at least one son wasn't furious with him, but that still didn't change the fact that things were far from over with Sammy. "Thanks, Dean," he said softly, standing and resting his hand on his son's shoulder. "I appreciate that, son."
"No problem," said Dean, flashing his charming grin. "So, where is Sammy anyway? You didn't kill him, did you?" he asked, suddenly looking concerned once more.
John chuckled grimly. "Nah, I just smacked his butt," he replied. "I sent him to his room for the night so we could both calm down."
Dean looked as though he wanted to say something about the situation, but he kept his mouth shut and turned to leave the room, when another thought crossed John's mind. "Dean, why are you just now getting home? School was out nearly two hours ago."
Dean looked slightly guilty as he turned back to face his dad. "I uh, I got detention for not turning in my homework," he responded, staring at the floor.
John fixed his eldest with a stern glare. "Didn't we have a talk about behaving yourself in school just last week, young man?" he scolded.
"Yes, sir," Dean answered quietly. John glared at him for a moment longer before reaching out and grabbing the boy's arm, yanking him over his lap and raising his hand to spank one of his children for the second time in less than an hour. Dean yelped as his father landed several hard swats on his backside. "Ow! Jeez Dad, that hurt!" he said indignantly. John didn't respond, just continued spanking until he heard Dean's breathing become ragged. When he picked up on the telltale whimpers, he stopped spanking and abruptly set Dean on his feet.
John released his arm and raised an eyebrow. "That was a warning, pal. We have had numerous conversations about you staying out of trouble in school, and my patience is wearing thin. The next time you get detention or have a note sent home, you're gonna be over my lap with your butt bare, and I just might paddle you with my hairbrush for good measure. Are we clear on this?"
"Yes, sir," Dean said quickly, trying not to rub the sting out of his behind. "I'll try and do better, sir."
"I know you will," John said a little more kindly. "Now scoot, I need to get started on dinner." Dean nodded quickly and ran out of the room before his dad could find another reason to swat him. John smiled after him for a moment before heading towards the kitchen.
Dean quietly entered the bedroom that he shared with his younger brother, not wanting to startle Sam, who was most likely still upset over his sore bottom and his impending spanking. He wasn't surprised to see his eleven year old brother lying on his stomach, his eyes bright with tears and his lower lip trembling. Dean walked over to the bed and sat down next to Sam, reaching out his hand to rub the younger boys back.
"Hey Sammy," he said softly, rubbing the tense shoulders. "I heard you got in trouble with Dad. You doing okay?"
Sam didn't say anything, just shifted until his head lay in Dean's lap. Dean was a little surprised, but he was willing to accommodate him. The boys sat in silence for a few minutes before Sam finally spoke.
"It's not fair, Dean," he whispered shakily. "I never get to do anything fun. Dad's too strict, and he's gonna spank me and I hate him."
"Hey!" Dean said firmly, looking down at his younger brother. "Don't ever say that again, or I'll swat you myself. You know that's not true. Dad loves us, and you really hurt him when you said that."
"I did?" Sam asked quietly, looking startled and a little ashamed. "I'm sorry, Dean."
"Hey, I'm not the one you need to apologize to, dude. Dad's the one who deserves an apology."
Sam mulled this over for a few minutes before protesting. "But Dean, he's so unfair! He never listens to me or lets me do anything! All he ever does is yell at me and spank me! I didn't do anything wrong, I just wanted to go to the stupid sleepover! And now I'm getting spanked twice just because I want to be normal for a change!"
Dean rolled his eyes at his younger brother's proclamation. "Oh for Pete's sake, Sammy, if all Dad ever did was spank you, you would never be able to sit down," he said sarcastically. "He only spanks either of us when we deserve it, and you know that. And yeah, it sucks that we can't do stuff that other kids can do, but Dad's a good parent and he does the best that he can. Maybe if you'd stop giving him so much grief he wouldn't have to spank you so much, did you ever think about that?"
Sam's eyes filled with tears again at his big brother's admonishment, and Dean instantly regretted his harsh tone. The poor kid had a sore butt and he was waiting to be spanked again, and here he was scolding Sam, just like Dad. Okay, so maybe he'd been a little disrespectful, but there was no need for John to spank him for it! He cuddled his brother a little closer and began to speak once more.
"Look, Sammy," Dean said softly. 'You had no right to talk to Dad that way. He's just trying to protect you, and I know that you don't really hate him. But
maybe it is a little unfair of him to spank you, at least this second time. I'll try and talk to him about it, ok?"
"It's not gonna matter, Dean," Sam replied miserably. "Once Dad's made up his mind to spank me, there's no way anyone's gonna change it. Not even you."
Dean didn't reply, just continued to rub his little brother's back until he felt Sammy drift off to sleep. He shifted Sam until he was lying back on his pillow, before tucking the covers up to his chin. Dean stared at the younger boy for a moment, feeling sorry for the little guy. He knew that it was very unlikely that John would change his mind and not spank Sam, but he hoped that whatever happened, his family might be able to make peace with each other.
An hour later, the two elder Winchesters sat down to eat their dinner, a slight tension between them. Neither John nor Dean said much during the meal, until Dean looked up at his father, a determined look in his eyes.
"Dad?" he asked, waiting until John glanced up from his plate. "I know Sammy was really disrespectful to you, and I know you can't just let that go. But maybe
well, maybe spanking him twice just for being honest is a little harsh
John scrutinized his eldest for a long time before rising from his chair and walking over to his eldest son, lifting up by his arm. Dean's eyes widened slightly, thinking that he was about to get his backside roasted, but John merely placed his hands on his son's shoulders and looked him in the eye.
Dean couldn't have looked more stunned if John had jumped up on the table and started doing the Macarena. "I
I am?" he stuttered.
John sighed and looked sadly at his elder child. "Dean, it is not okay for either of you boys to scream in my face just because you're upset about something as trivial as a sleepover," he said firmly "But, I admit, I probably could have made my point to Sammy without spanking him, and I had already decided before you came down here that I wasn't going to spank him again. I think your brother and I need to sit down and have a long, long talk to straighten some things out, but I don't think that blistering his behind is going to make much of an impression when he's feeling the way he is right now. As long as he keeps his temper when I talk to him, I'll keep mine."
Dean breathed a sigh of relief as John squeezed his shoulder affectionately. "Now, why don't you get the kitchen cleaned up, son, while I go have a talk with your brother. After you're done, stay down here and watch TV for awhile. I don't know how long it's going to take for Sammy and me to talk this out."
"Yes, sir," Dean replied, and he began to clean up the kitchen as John headed upstairs. He had just finished scraping the plates into the trashcan when he heard his father's booming voice echo through the house.
"SAMUEL MICHAEL WINCHESTER! WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
Dean dropped the dishes in the sink and raced towards his bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time. When he got there, he was shocked to see John yanking Sammy back inside from the window. Apparently, his little brother had tried unsuccessfully to sneak out of the house. Dean cleared his throat, and both John and Sam turned to look at him. John looked to be beside himself with rage, and Sam looked positively terrified.
"Dean, get back downstairs," John growled. "Your brother and I have a few things to discuss."
Dean took a step toward his family, hoping to pacify his father, but John was having none of it. "Now, Dean! Unless you want to be next," he threatened. Dean got the message loud and clear, and with a sympathetic look to Sammy, he turned and fled from the room.
John was absolutely livid. He had come upstairs prepared to be gentle and understanding, and he found his eleven year old son halfway out the window, clearly sneaking off to God knows where just as it was beginning to get dark. All thoughts of talking things out with Sam flew out the open window as John hauled the shaking boy over to his bed. John sat down and pulled Sam to his side, yanking his son's jeans and underwear down with one swift motion before unceremoniously tossing the boy over his lap.
Sam had been so startled when his father had caught him sneaking out that he hadn't uttered a word since. But when the first stinging swat of John's hard hand landed firmly on his upturned bottom, he let out a shriek that was probably heard down the block.
"Dad!" he protested, squirming over the older man's lap. "Please, Dad, don't! I'm sorry, I just
"I don't want to hear it, Samuel," John said forcefully, smacking the tender backside again and again. "You're in enough trouble already, don't make it worse by arguing with me again. You know damn well how dangerous it is to be out by yourself at night, and you sure as hell know that I won't tolerate you running away. What in the hell were you thinking?"
By now, Sam's behind was a dark pink, and the poor boy couldn't get a word out through his sobs. After another minute of solid spanking, John finally heard his son say something.
"I was afraid of you
John abruptly stopped spanking and quickly turned Sammy over on his lap, adjusting him so he was looking straight into the tear stained face.
" John's breath caught in his throat as he saw the fear in Sammy's eyes. "You were afraid of me?"
Sammy averted his gaze, apparently ashamed to look at his father. John gently grasped his chin and turned his head back to face him. "Sammy," he said softly. "Talk to me buddy."
Sam gulped and tried to stop his tears. "You
you spanked me earlier just because I wanted to go to my sleepover
and I didn't think it was fair," he whispered, looking down at his hands, twisting them nervously in his lap. "And I tried to tell you how I felt, but you just said you were going to spank me again. My butt already hurt so much, and you were so mad
I just thought if I left, maybe you wouldn't be so mad anymore," he finished quietly.
John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Sammy," he said, placing his hands on the boys trembling shoulders. "I was coming up here tonight to apologize for spanking you earlier. I overreacted, and I'm sorry, buddy."
Sam looked at his father uncertainly. "You
you're sorry?" he whispered, wondering if this was some kind of joke. John Winchester rarely admitted that he was wrong, and it was even more unusual for him to apologize for anything.
John sighed, feeling like a complete ogre for being so hard on the boy earlier. "Yeah, Sammy, I am. Now, you were getting pretty lippy earlier, but it wasn't such a big deal that I needed to spank you for it," John said tenderly, rubbing the hand that had just been spanking Sam's little bottom through the boy's rakish curls. "However," he continued in a firmer tone, "you and I need to come to an understanding. I am your father, and until you're eighteen, I get to call the shots. So if I make a decision, you don't get to mouth off to me and you certainly don't get to question what I do for a living. You got me?"
Sam nodded reluctantly. He was getting to that rebellious stage and he didn't always like being told what to do, but he figured with his butt still bare he ought to not push his luck. "Yes, sir", he answered softly.
"Good," said John, giving Sam's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Now, I'll make you a deal. You try and cool it with the attitude, and I'll try and talk things out with you instead of just spanking you for every little thing. Does that sound reasonable?"
Sam's eyebrows were practically up to his hairline at this point. Did his Dad actually just say that he would try and listen to him instead of just whaling on his behind every time he said something other than "yes, sir"? This had to be a sign of the apocalypse.
"Okay, Dad," he replied, still a little stunned. "I'll try not to be so disrespectful."
"Thanks buddy," John said kindly, touching his hand to his son's cheek. Father and son looked at each other for a few seconds, enjoying the peace of the moment, before John abruptly lifted Sam from his sitting position and flipped him so he was back across his lap.
Sam was once again shocked, but not in a good way. "Dad?" he said in a panicked voice. "What are you doing? I thought you weren't going to spank me for earlier!"
John rested his hand on his son's still warm backside. "This spanking isn't for earlier, Sam. I don't care what is going on between us, you are never to try and run away, young man. There is never going to be a situation bad enough for you to have to leave home and put yourself in such a dangerous and vulnerable position," he scolded. "Now, I know I spanked you once unfairly today, but we've still got a ways to go before I feel that you've been punished enough for trying to sneak out.
Sam didn't say anything, just buried his head in his arms. How could he have been so stupid? Granted, he thought his father was going to spank him anyway, but now he knew that if he had just waited in his room for John to come talk to him, he wouldn't be in this position right now. Figures, Sam thought miserably to himself as John raised his hand and brought it down sharply on the vulnerable behind in front of him.
It didn't take long for Sam's bottom to turn fire engine red. This was the third time he had been over John's knee in the past three hours, and he was convinced that no one had a larger and stronger hand than his father. Finally, after nearly three minutes of solid spanking, John's hand stopped smacking Sam's rear end and gently began to rub the boy's shaking back.
"Shhh, buddy, it's okay. It's all over now Sammy," John soothed. He slipped Sam's briefs tenderly over the throbbing backside and gently turned him over in his lap, allowing his stinging tail to rest between his knees. "It's alright, Sammy, Daddy's got you, buddy."
Sam buried his face into John flannel shirt, sobbing for all he was worth. "I'm s-sorry, Daddy!" he wailed despondently. "I'll never be bad again, I promise!"
John chuckled mirthfully at this declaration, knowing that in all likelihood, he would have one of the boys over his knee again within the next month. Still, he wrapped his arms tighter around Sam, and dropped a light kiss on his forehead.
"Sammy, you weren't bad
you just need to think a little more before you think and act," John said firmly. He turned Sam's face upward so he could look him in the eye. "You do know that's why I discipline you and your brother, right? It's not because you're bad, or because I don't love you anymore, but because it's my job as your parent to teach you right from wrong. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Sam answered softly, lowering his head to John shoulder once more. "I'm still sorry, though. And
I'm sorry I told you that I hated you. I really didn't mean it, Daddy."
"I know you didn't, buddy" John responded gently. They sat there for a few more minutes, John rocking his baby boy as though he were five years old again. "I love you, Sammy."
"I love you, too, Dad," Sam replied shyly. Planting another kiss on his forehead, John lifted Sam from his lap and set him on the floor. Sam hurriedly pulled his jeans back into place, blushing slightly as he had just realized that they were still bunched around his knees.
"You must be starving, son," John said kindly, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder and steering him towards the bedroom door. "Let's get you some food, and maybe the three of us can find something to watch on TV."
A few hours later, the three Winchesters watched the ending credits of The Shining. John was relaxing in his recliner, and Dean and Sam were both stretched out on the floor, lying on their stomachs to prevent contact between their still sore behinds and the hard floor surface.
"It's getting late, boys," John said, glancing at his watch. "You've both had a long day. I think it's time both of you headed up to bed."
Ordinarily, John had a difficult time getting his two energetic sons to settle down for the night. However, they were both still fairly subdued from their earlier spankings, and they got up without complaint. Before heading out the door, Sam turned to his father.
"Dad," he said hesitantly, "Is there a chance that you're going to change your mind about the sleepover?"
John raised an eyebrow, surprised that the boy had the nerve to even bring the subject up. Part of him wanted to let Sam go, as he still felt guilty about getting so angry with him earlier. Still, he couldn't ignore the safety issues, and Sam shouldn't be rewarded for attempting to run away. "I'm afraid not, Sam," he said frankly. "In fact, neither of you boys are going anywhere for the next two weeks."
Both Sam and Dean looked indignant at this pronouncement. "Are you grounding us?" Dean asked disbelievingly. "Dad, what the heck, you already gave us both a beating, and now you're
John held up his hand to stop the stream of words spilling out of his elder son. "First of all, Dean, I have never beaten you and I never will," he admonished sternly. "You both got spanked, and that was sufficient punishment for your individual disobedience. Second of all, I'm not grounding you. I'm going to take time off from hunting these next couple of weeks, and we're going to spend some time together as a family, since according to Sam all I ever do with you two is discipline you. And Dean, you can also used the extra time at home to catch up on your schoolwork."
Both boys looked at each other, Sam looking slightly guilty and Dean looking slightly irritated. "So, basically, you're grounding us?" Dean asked again.
"Basically," John replied mildly, standing up from his chair. "Now both of you get upstairs, and I'll come up in a minute to tuck you in," he said, placing a kiss on both of his sons' foreheads, noting with some amusement that Dean looked like he was itching to wipe it off. He turned both of them towards the stairs, and watched as they jostled each other on the way up. God, he loved his boys. For all his ex-marine tendencies, John hated being a disciplinarian, and he was relieved that, for today at least, he was done doling out punishment.
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