Title: Road Safety
Author: Brassband777
Characters: John, Sam (4), Dean (9)
Scenario: wee!chester, discipline fic
Summary: Sam ignores what he has been taught about road safety and runs into the road.
Author's Notes/Warnings: Parental spanking of a child. This is just a bit of fluff really, so I apologise in advance! Disclaimer: don't own, just borrowing…
Road Safety:
Present:
John Winchester sat on a bench in the playground savouring the rare opportunity to be a 'normal' dad. He watched his eldest fondly – Dean was on the swings, but of course he wasn't sitting down on them like other nine-year-olds, he was standing up, arching his body and bending his knees, trying to get it to go as high as humanly possible. John turned and glanced in the other direction to check on his youngest child. Sammy was sitting in the sandbox, scooping sand into a large pile in front of him. His precious new soccer ball was lying in the sand next to him.
John shook his head – where the child's newfound interest in soccer had come from he had absolutely no idea. Neither he nor Dean had any particular interest in the sport. Now if Dean had shown an interest, then John could have understood it, as little Sam totally hero-worshiped his big brother and everything that Dean liked or did, Sam automatically did too.
Earlier:
For once, having had a little extra cash, he had taken his boys to the toyshop and allowed them each to choose a cheapish toy. John had felt wretched inside at the level of excitement and happiness that this had caused – being treated in this way should be a normal occurrence for his beloved boys, not a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, which is what you would think it was from their extreme reactions. Little Sam had held tightly to his big brother's hand and dragged him up and down every aisle, chattering excitedly non-stop as he did so, exclaiming in wonder at all of the marvellous, tempting toys on the shelves.
In the end, Dean had chosen a model airplane kit, which came as no surprise, as the kid loved building things and already showed a natural aptitude for working with his hands. Whenever John was working on the Impala, his eldest was always his little shadow, eager to learn about and help to fix the classic car.
Sam had taken longer to choose his toy from the store. Dean had patiently explained which of the items his little brother pointed out they could afford and which they couldn't. Finally, his decision had come down to a set of picture books or a soccer ball. After much deliberation, the small boy had chosen the ball.
They had then driven to the nearby park. Dean had left his airplane kit in the Impala, but they had taken Sam's new ball with them.
Sam had wanted to try out his new toy and so the Winchesters had spent a happy half an hour kicking it about in the cordoned off grassy area, which was situated well away from the road. The boys had then grown bored of that game and had asked to go on the playground equipment.
It was when Sam grew tired of John pushing him on the swings that trouble first reared its head. His youngest had then gone to play in the sandbox, but when John glanced back at him after a quick check on Dean, he found Sam playing with his new ball on the grass on the other side of the sandbox, which was dangerously close to the road.
John immediately hurried over. "Sammy! You know you're not allowed to play near the road. If you want to play with your ball, you'll have to go back to where we were playing earlier."
Sam pouted. "But that's not near the sandbox and I wanna play both and there's lots of room to play ball here!"
"Sammy," said John warningly, "You can play both, but you'll just have to move between the two areas."
Sam stamped his little sneakered foot. "But that wastes time!"
John wasted no time in turning his small son around and placing a single sharp, stinging swat on his backside.
"Owww!" Sam's expressive hazel eyes filled with tears, but they didn't fall. His small hand moved immediately to rub at the sting.
"Are you going to behave yourself or do I need to look after your ball?"
Sam shook his head and looked up at his father through his long bangs. "Please don't take my ball, Daddy. I'm sorry. I'll stay away from the road and I'll be good."
John couldn't resist the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as he contemplated his youngest. The unconscious expression that the boy was wearing resembled that of a kicked puppy-dog and John was certain that if his young son ever became aware of this ability, he would be able to use it very effectively to get his own way.
Returning to the bench he had been sitting on, John was unsurprised to see that Dean had left the climbing frame and was trotting over towards Sam. Dean took his job as big brother very seriously and having seen his younger sibling get swatted, he would invariably go and check the four-year-old was all right.
Present:
Sam sat in the sandbox, tossing his soccer ball high into the air and catching it. He misjudged one attempt however and missed. The ball hit the concrete rim of the sandbox and rolled across the grass, stopping a few feet away from the road. Sam glanced over towards the bench – his Dad was busy talking to Dean on the swings. Sam was envious – he had wanted to swing as high as Dean could, but his Dad wouldn't let him stand on the swing, saying that he was too little.
Sam glanced back at his ball. He didn't want to get into trouble. I'm not playing with it here, I'm just fetching it, he reasoned as he trotted off to retrieve the prized possession.
John glanced back towards his youngest just in time to see the boy standing much too close to the road for comfort, bending to retrieve his beloved ball.
He opened his mouth to call the boy back and watched what happened next in horror, as time seemed to stand still. Sam fumbled as he picked up the ball and it slipped out of his hands, rolling right out into the road!
Sam didn't think, he didn't hesitate, he simply ran after the ball.
The screech of brakes shattered the peaceful afternoon. The driver of the white car having slammed on brakes, swerved also, in a desperate attempt to avoid hitting the tiny child that had suddenly appeared in front of her.
John was unable to tell from his angle if his baby had been hit and was already sprinting towards the scene. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean fling himself off the swing, even though it was at its highest point. At any other time, John would have been impressed as Dean absorbed the impact of landing by tucking in and rolling forward just as he had taught him. As it was, Dean's skill never even registered as John's heart was in his mouth and terror for his baby boy threatened to crush him.
Sam had screamed when he saw the white car bearing down on him. Now that it had stopped, for a moment he just stood there, tears of shock rolling down his cheeks and his heart hammering in his chest. He wanted his Daddy! The ball was completely forgotten.
Sam turned and began to run back towards the playground. He was met with the most welcome sight in the world – his Dad was running towards him, and Dean wasn't far behind. Sam wanted nothing more than to be held and comforted in Daddy's strong arms. That wasn't what happened.
John scooped up his youngest, with his left arm around the waist and lifted him into the air. Without conscious thought, John then tilted the boy to present his bottom and applied eight hard, unyielding spanks in quick succession. John's large, calloused hand covered the majority of the tiny bottom with each swat. The little boy squirmed and yelped throughout, his dangling legs kicking out instinctively as he tried unsuccessfully to escape the burning sting. Sam had already been crying from the shock of nearly being run over by the car, but after spank number three, this had turned into full-fledged sobs.
John set the boy down and attempted to pull him into a hug. His heart was still hammering in his chest and he could feel the adrenaline cruising through his veins – he had nearly lost Sammy! The small boy however twisted and managed to break free from his father's hold and hurtled straight for his big brother who was standing white-faced a few feet away.
Sam threw himself at Dean, wrapping his arms around him and sobbing into his brother's chest. He had gone to Daddy needing to be comforted after his fright, but Daddy had spanked his bottom and hurt him instead. Dean would make it all better!
Dean slid his arms around his baby brother and crushed the small body to him. He could feel the small boy trembling beneath his touch, but was acutely aware that he himself was trembling too. Dean couldn't ever remember feeling so scared, except for the night when he had carried a baby Sam from their burning house in Lawrence.
"D-daddy sp-sp-spanked me," wailed the child brokenly, his whole body shuddering with sobs.
"I know, Tiger, it's 'cause you ran out into the road." Dean automatically began rubbing soothing circles on Sam's back. "You must never ever do that again, do you hear?"
John finally registered that the driver of the car was trying to talk to him and tore his gaze away from his sons, his thoughts in a whirl, able to only grasp and hold onto one fact: Sammy was alive and unhurt!
"I'm so so sorry!" babbled the middle-aged woman driver.
John took a few deep calming breaths and forced himself to pull himself together. He glanced once more at his boys to reassure himself - Dean had Sam. He wouldn't let anything happen to his baby brother! – before turning to the woman and extending his hand.
"You have nothing at all to be sorry for. In fact, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you hadn't reacted as quickly as you did, my son could have been badly injured." Or dead!
After watching the woman return to her car and drive off, John turned back to his boys. He deeply regretted not having had control over his emotions when Sam had run to him. Sure, his youngest deserved a spanking. Sam had run out into the road three times in the last two months and each time John had had stern words with him, to no avail. Luckily no cars had been coming during any of these instances. After the last incident, John had told his youngest that if he did it again, he would put him over his knee. But John knew his baby was distraught and that what the child had needed was comfort and reassurance. It didn't make John feel any better either that he knew that most parents would have reacted exactly the same way – spanking first and cuddles later. He should have calmed the child down and then had another serious discussion about road safety before administering the spanking.
With a regret-filled sigh, John approached his boys. Sam was still sobbing audibly into his brother's chest and Dean was making soothing nonsense noises.
"I need to take him, Dean."
Dean looked at his father, his green eyes troubled. "Are you gonna yell at him Dad? I know he was naughty, but he's really really upset."
John shook his head, warmed by Dean's level of devotion to his younger brother. "No, Ace, I need to calm him down. I will have to talk to him later about what he did, but that can wait. He's had quite a shock." We all have!
Dean nodded, trusting his father's judgement and set about helping his Dad gently disentangle Sam's clutching fingers from his clothing.
"W-want D-dean!" sobbed Sam, trying, without success to keep hold of his brother. He finally lost his grip and felt his Dad lift him off the ground.
John easily kept hold of the wriggling, squirming four-year-old and carried him over to the bench.
As John sat down, the reason for the small child's extreme agitation quickly became apparent.
"Nooooo, D-daddy, no m-more sp-spanking!" he sobbed.
"Hush, it's okay, Sammy. I'm not going to spank you again. That's finished, it's all done," soothed John, sitting his baby boy in his lap.
"Oww," murmured Sam softly as his stinging bottom connected with John's thigh.
John quickly repositioned him and then set about calming the trembling, distressed child. He rocked gently – a motion that had always soothed both Sam and Dean when he had been younger - while carding his fingers through the boy's floppy hair. He also murmured soft reassurances, "It's okay, Sammy….Daddy's got you…..you're all right…me and Dean won't let anything happen to you…."
Dean knelt on the floor beside the bench, offering his own comfort by running his hand up and down Sammy's thigh. His father's soft-spoken reassurances soothed away Dean's fear too and slowly, his racing heart returned to normal.
Sam cuddled into his Dad's broad chest, his sobs slowly having receded until he was just giving the occasional sniffle. His bottom was still stinging, but he felt safe!
John was relieved that the child had finally stopped trembling. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue. He held it in front of the four-year-old's nose. "Blow."
Sam did as instructed.
"You okay now, Sammy?"
The small boy nodded. "I'm really, really sorry, Daddy. Are you still mad at me?"
John looked down at the small repentant face before him that was all blotchy from crying and still damp with tears. "No, Sammy, Daddy's not mad. You were naughty, but you were spanked, so you don't need to worry about any more punishment, okay? We will have a talk about road safety when we get back to the motel, but I'm hoping it'll be the last one we have, because I'm getting tired of repeating myself." John smiled, so that his youngest would know he was teasing.
Sam nevertheless looked sheepish. "I am sorry for not listening, Daddy, really. I promise you won't have to tell me about road safety ever again."
"That's good to hear." John hoisted his baby onto his hip to carry him to the car.
"Dean, will you very carefully retrieve your brother's new ball? I don't want you getting run over! It's in the gutter at the side of the road," he called over his shoulder.
John was surprised to feel the gentle kiss on his cheek.
"Thank you, Daddy. I didn't think I deserved to have my ball back," whispered Sam in his ear.
"You deserve anything that makes you happy, Sammy, because I love you," whispered John back, planting an affectionate kiss on the child's forehead.