Prompt: #38 Fighting
Type of Story: General
Author's Note: Disclaimer Supernatural and it's characters don't belong to me, and I'm making no money from this fic. This story is an AU. Dean is 15, Sam 11
John Winchester looked up and smiled as the tornado that was his youngest son crashed through the back door. Sam breathlessly put his backpack down on the kitchen table and headed straight for the fridge.
"Hello, Sammy!" John greeted him, "How was school?"
Sam's head did not leave the fridge, "My name is Sam!" He grumbled under his breath but pulled out a bar of candy and closed the fridge door. He turned and smiled at his father, "School was fine, Dad." He said but then rolled his eyes dramatically, "Mr Holmes did give us a mountain of Math homework though." He grumbled.
John laughed and ruffled Sam's unruly hair as he walked past him; "You can make a start before dinner then." He said.
Sam groaned but did as his father asked and picked up his school bag and headed to his room. Just as he made it too the door, John called after him.
"Where is Dean, Sam?"
Sam turned quickly, starring at his father, saying nothing. John prompted him.
"You know, Dean." He pressed Sam, he gestured with his hand, "About "so" big, fair hair, winning smile and an answer for everything!"
Sam smiled nervously, looked at the ground not wanting to meet his father's eyes.
"Samuel!" John snapped. "Where is he?"
Sam's head shot up at the use of his full name and glanced at his Father. "He got detention. Dad." He whispered.
John nodded at Sam, he had suspected as much, "Ok, Sammy, what for?" He pressed his son for further information.
Sam shook his head at his Father. "I am not sure Dad," he answered. " I heard that there was some sort of fight and that Dean and another lad got detention with the headmaster."
He glanced at his father, trying to read him for a reaction, he felt awful ratting on his brother but Dean would understand. Their father was the best interrogator on the whole planet.
John gestured for Sam to go, "Alright Son." He said. "Go and get started on that Math mountain and I will start dinner. I shall speak to your brother when he gets in."
Sam turned and ran from the room and escaped into his room.
Sam knew that Dean would be in trouble, their Father hated it when Dean used his fists to sort out any situation. John was a great believer in violence being the complete last resort and he had tried to drum that into Sam and Dean. Something that Dean found hard to do.
About half and hour later, Sam was shocked out of his algebra problems but Dean rattling on the window. Sam rushed over and opened it. Dean grinned at Sam and climbed in through the window. Sam looked his brother up and down. His shirt was torn and his jeans were covered in grass stains. Sam could also see a nice black eye forming above Deans left cheekbone.
"Thanks Sammy!" He said, "I take it dear ole Dad knows why I am late."
Sam stared at Dean and nodded slowly, "I had to tell him Dean," He started, "You know what he is like!"
Dean patted Sam on the shoulder and grinned again. "It's OK Sam." He said, "This was totally not my fault this time anyway."
Both boys jumped as they heard the bedroom door open and John stood in the doorway. He glared at Dean. "Oh, I see Dean." He stated. "It was not your fault."
Dean looked over at his father and gave him a small smile. "No, Sir!" He exclaimed. "I did not throw the first punch."
John nodded at his son. "Dinner is ready anyway boys," he said. "Let's eat first and then we can discuss what happened, Dean."
The Winchester's ate the stew in an uneasy silence and at the first opportunity Sam excused himself and ran back into his bedroom. Dean and John sat eating for a while until John could see that Dean was not in an eating mood and started clearing the plates away.
"Go and wait for me on the couch Dean?" He told his son. Dean stood and went and sat down.
John followed soon after carrying one of the kitchen chairs and setting it down in front of Dean. He sat and starred at his son for a moment.
"Get me the note then Dean." He began with a small sigh. There was always a note in situations like this. Dean stood and got the note and handed it too his Dad without a word. He then sat back down and waited. John finished reading the note and looked at Dean, the boy could not meet his Father's eyes, finding a loose bit of denim on his jeans more interesting.
John leaned forward in his chair, "So Dean," He questioned. "Do you want to start from the beginning?"
Dean raised his eyes and looked at his Father. "It was not my fault Dad." He answered.
John shook his head at his Son. "That's not what I asked you, Dean." He answered calmly. "Tell me what happened."
Dean looked at his Father and took a deep breath. "From the beginning?" He questioned. John nodded encouragingly
"I wanted to make you proud Dad." Dean started, "Like you are of Sam when he gets good test scores."
John said nothing but looked at Dean in surprise, this was not the avenue that he has expected his son to take. Dean continued, "I worked really hard and did really well in this History paper, it was really interesting Dad, all about the American Civil War."
"What score did you get Dean?" John asked his son.
It was Dean's turn to look surprised. He had in fact forgotten about the test score since all the trouble it had caused.
"I got an A, Dad," Dean whispered again not meeting his Dad's eyes, "I was dead chuffed with myself." He continued.
John could not help but feel sorry for his chest fallen son. It was no secret that Sam was a brainy kid and just took to school a lot easier then Dean. His older son was easily distracted and got bored easily. John understood how hard Dean must have worked to achieve this test score.
He stood up and sat on the couch beside his son. The hunter put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Well done Son." He said as he made Dean look at him. "I am proud of you, that is great work."
Dean gave his Dad a small smile. "Fat lot of good it did though Dad." He replied sadly. "This bunch of guys thought it would be great to rain on my parade."
John nodded. "They were just jealous son." He replied and added in a harder voice. "You should have just walked away."
Dean nodded at him, "I know Dad," he replied in a small voice. "They just kept on and on. I really did try."
John stood up and sat back down on the chair, knowing that the hard part of the conversation was just about to start. "Your teacher knows that this fight was not your fault, Dean" He started. "That is why you are not being suspended."
Dean sighed with relief but John poked a finger towards his chest. "You are in detention for the rest of the week young man." He lectured. "And, you are on your last warming. You raise your fists again and you will be! Do you understand?"
Dean looked his father straight in the eye. "Yes Sir. I understand." He answered.
John nodded, pleased that his son was not fighting him over this. "I am going to have to punish you though Dean." He added carefully.
Dean sighed in resignation. He had hopped his Father might have let him get away with a lecture but deep down he knew that that was never going to happen. He nodded at his Father.
John looked harshly at his son. "I am going to give you a spanking Dean but it will reflect that you did not start this fight but you listen good young man because if we have to have this conversation again, I shall take my belt to your bare butt, understand?"
Dean gulped, his Father had never used his belt on either of his sons but Dean knew that his father was a man who kept his promises and he really did not want to be introduced to the belt.
John pushed the chair backwards, "Come here." He told his son
Dean stood slowly, wiping his clammy hands on his jeans. He hated being spanked but what he hated more was knowing he deserved it and that he should have acted differently.
Dean walked to his Father's side and stood nervously
"Jeans down son." John commanded
Dean looked at his father in desperation. "Please Dad." He pleaded, hating that he was sounding like a little kid.
John glared at his son; "I said jeans down, Dean." He repeated in a hard voice. "Or, I will rethink allowing you to keep your boxers on."
Dean wished he could stop his hands shaking a little as he undid his jeans and pushed them down to his knees.
John took hold of his upper arm and guided his eldest son over his lap. Dean rested his hands on the floor and closed his eyes and waited.
John positioned his son correctly and wrapped an arm around his middle. He wasted no time in starting the punishment.
Dean jumped slightly at the first swat and started shifting slightly as the pain grew in his backside.
John quickly got into his rhythm and took no time to build up a steady rhythm of punishing blows to his sons boxer clad behind before moving down to the tops of his thighs.
Dean noticed the change straight away and started to pled, "Dad, oh ow, not there please!" He desperately tired to fight back tears but he knew they were not far away.
John closed his ears to Dean's growing distress and kept up the punishing blows, he raised his knee and upped the tempo again.
That was the final straw for Dean, he felt the tears well up in his eyes, "Dad, please," he cried. "I'm sorry OK? Please stop."
John rested his sore hand on Dean's equally sore backside. Dean struggled to regain some composure and control his breathing.
"What are you sorry about Dean?" John enquired. Dean groaned and was rewarded with a sharp swat, which caused him to cry out. "Answer me, young man!" John demanded.
Dean hung his head, "I am sorry I got into a fight." He answered, his voice full of tears.
John nodded and started to spank Dean again. The swats were no where near as hard as before but he needed to slowly build to the big finish and Dean was already squirming around on his lap.
"How many times do we need to have this conversation Dean?" He asked his son, "Fighting is not the answer and I will not have you sorting out your problems with your fists."
As John lectured his son he continued to rain swats down upon the upturned bottom in front on him at such a blistering pace that Dean finally fell limp over his knee and sobbed. He was too distressed to speak but cried and cried.
John noted the chance in his son and brought the spanking to an end. He rubbed calming and comforting circles into Dean's back as his son struggled to stop the tears.
Father and Son stayed that way for a few minutes until Dean's tears had turned to whimpers and sniffles. He pushed himself to standing and wiped his hands on his jeans before gingerly pulling them over his throbbing bottom. He winced as the fabric made contact and decided to keep them resting on his hips for the time being.
John stood and wrapped him into another comforting hug, which Dean quickly accepted.
"I am so proud of you son," John whispered to him. "Getting that A has made me the happiest Dad ever."
Dean looked at his Dad with a watery smile. "Thanks" He replied.
"I am going to take you out on Saturday Dean," John continued. "I'll get Bobby over to take care of Sam and me and you can spend the day just you and me. How's that sound?"
Dean hugged his Dad again, thinking that that idea was the best in the world.
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