To those who have given me guest reviews…thank you so very much. Everyone means a lot to me. Unfortunately, when I go to moderate them it doesn't allow me to respond to you individually. I'm so very sorry for that. It is quite possible that I don't know what I'm doing. Rest assured though, I get your reviews and am thrilled that you take the time to tell me you enjoy my work. Please consider joining so I can respond to you properly! Thanks ~ WBY

XXX

Adam was worried. He had reason to be worried. All he kept thinking of was that it wasn't his fault, not really.

Well, it was his fault that he'd gone to the river. The river was off limits unless his older brothers were there. Which was stupid because he could swim. But Dad always pulled that "Adam, you are too irresponsible…." Blah, blah, blah. For some reason, Dad seemed to think the was going to throw himself off of a rock and "crack his head open."

For Dad, that seemed to always be Adam's inevitable ending. Adam had no idea why his brains always had to be dashed on the rocks, the blacktop, the damn trampoline, whatever surface that was available. Who thinks their kid is going to bash their head in swimming? Don't most parents worry about their kids drowning when they swim? Sam said it was just because Dad was concerned and that Adam was the newest, youngest Winchester. Dean had reluctantly agreed, Dad was just a little protective. Adam wasn't sure if that was the case at all.

Adam touched his blacked eye.

Maybe Dad's premonitions regarding head bashing were not too far from the truth.

But Adam mollified himself because he hadn't really cracked his head open, but he had walked into a solid right jab that had instantly caused his eye to swell.

He figured Dad would count that as a "head injury". Was head injury the same as cracking your head open? Adam decided that you could have a head injury without really cracking your head open but you could not crack your head without a head injury. He figured it was all semantics though because there was no doubt he was in serious hot water when he managed to walk home.

He was doomed. Not just because had he sneaked out and made his way to the river for a quick, unauthorized swim but because of he'd gotten a black eye and because Cassidy Randall was a pain in the butt. He amended that in his head, maybe not even for the black eye, but definitely because of Cassidy Randall.

Cassidy Randall and her strawberry blonde hair, her face smattered with freckles and her bare feet. Cassidy Randall who was as far from a real girl as anyone could get. She had a Ranger's cap that she never took off of her head and she lived on a horse.

Really.

Other kids rode bikes but not Cassidy.

She rode a chestnut pony with four white socks and a huge blaze. Skip or Nip or something like that. She never rode in a saddle, only a tattered hackamore that had seen better days.

Naturally she was at the river with the damn horse when he was there.

Technically, he'd been there first so when she rode up and the pony splashed his way into the waist deep water where Adam was floating, well it had pissed Adam off.

So he'd yelled some uncomplimentary things about Cassidy. She had glared at him and halted her pony not five feet from where he was swimming. Then she lay down, head on Skip/Nips butt and legs on either side of his shoulders, dangling her toes into to the river like the pony was her personal couch.

Which it appeared like he was.

The pony pawed in the water and then blew snotty horse bubbles when he dunked his nose into the river to drink.

Just gross.

Then the damn beast had snorted water and horse snot all over Adam and just ewww.

Adam had really gotten mad then and called her horse a walking can of Alpo.

It turned out Cassidy could care less what you called her but apparently she had some issues about names for her horse because she had vaulted off the pony, splashed into the water, bare feet, shorts and t-shirt and all and had smashed Adam's eye with that right jab.

Adam had reacted exactly the way anyone would, he'd socked her hard with a left upper cut that sent her head back with a snap and she fell backwards into the water with a crash.

She just floated there for a second and it was then that Adam noticed the pinkish stream of water coming from the gash in her head where she'd hit her head on a river rock.

Adam had scrambled to her, contrite and worried.

He'd cracked her head open!

He pulled her up and she'd sputtered and splashed, river water coming out of her mouth like a deluge.

"Jesus, Cassidy. I'm sorry."

And he was.

She whimpered a bit and then touched her hand to here head a red smear of blood.

"Adam, I don't feel so good."

"I gotcha." Adam picked her up. She hadn't weighed all that much and he had carried to the bank, the pony followed nervously. Once there, he'd grabbed his cell from where he'd left it under a small tree and called 911. There wasn't much else to do.

Jeff Banner, the local sheriff, had showed up and they'd taken Cassidy to the hospital. But before Jeff left he gave Adam strict orders to march his sorry ass home and tell his father what had happened. Another deputy had lead the pony back home.

Jeff's parting words had been that Adam should be expecting a call from Jeff tonight and that Adam should make his father aware of exactly what happened here today.

Jeff could have arrested him for assault or something like that, but that never happened in their town. Jeff could have driven him home, but it was a small town with just Jeff and the deputy. The deputy was taking the pony home, Jeff was taking Cassidy. The local fire department had been over at a four alarm a town over and well, Adam knew his way home. Besides, Jeff knew that Adam would do as he was told; he might not want to, but there was no way that Adam would ignore Jeff's orders.

Small town living was not all it was cracked up to be.

So here Adam was, walking home with a black eye and a story to tell his father that he so did not want to tell.

Not. At. All.

First of all, Adam had left the farm without a note, to go someplace he shouldn'a been and then he hit a girl.

That may have been the worse thing of all.

The other stuff? Well, it happened from time to time with Winchesters. They'd all been known to break some rules and disobey Dad. They'd suffered the consequences too, but John Winchester was really old fashioned when it came to women. He taught his boys to respect them, to watch out for them and above all never to raise a hand to them.

Unless they were demons or something but that was a totally different thing.

Adam contemplated his situation. His dad wouldn't care that Cassidy had hit him first. A Winchester never hit a girl. Reluctantly though, Adam realized it wasn't just Winchesters. When Adam had been Adam Milligan, his mother had been just as tough about that kind of stuff.

Boys don't hit girls and her son had better never raise his hand to a girl, no matter what. She'd drilled that in them from the time he began to toddle around their living room. His mom would flash her eyes in his direction and tell him in no uncertain terms she was raising a gentleman.

Obviously both his mom and his dad had failed because Adam had just socked a girl. Sent her to the hospital with a bloody head and he'd had been sent home by the cops.

He was so dead.

XXX

He opened the door to the house to see his five-year old nephew jumping from the couch to the chair with a piece of paper fashioned into a mask literally taped to his face and a towel wrapped around his neck, a la Batman.

"Jamie, Gramps is gonna kill you." Adam rebuked.

Jamie stopped in mid jump, which caused him to misjudge his landing, and he fell on his bottom with a giggle.

"Nah uh, he's gonna be too busy killing you. Besides he's down 'na barn waiting for you."

Adam sighed.

"Guess you're right, partner."

"Why'd you hit a girl, Uncle Adam?" Jamie had hopped back on the couch and then jumped into Adam's arms trusting for all the world that Adam was going to catch him. Which Adam did – forty-five pounds of solid five-year-old kid, all hot and sweaty and smelling like little boy. Adam breathed in his nephew's scent. It was comforting.

"'Cause I was stupid."

Jamie seemed to consider it and then obviously decided that Adam knew what he was talking about.

"Oh, I hope I'm never that stupid."

"Me too, kiddo."

Jamie tentatively touched Adam's black eye, "Pretty cool shiner huh?"

"Not so much, it hurts though and you poking it doesn't make it feel any better."

"Are you gonna cry?" Jamie asked

"Because of the shiner or because of Gramps?"

"I dunno, both."

"Gramps, most definitely. The black eye? Not so much as long as you keep your grubby paws off of it." Despite Adam's word Jamie didn't appear to be at all contrite, "Batman wouldn't cry if Gramps spanked his butt."

"I bet he would. Besides, maybe I won't cry, maybe I will just yell manly bellows when Gramps whups my ass."

Jamie giggled again, "You said ass."

Adam took another deep breath of Jamie. "Yeah I did but so did you. Gramps'll wash your mouth if he hears that. "

Jamie nodded solemnly. "'Kay," then he snuggled one more time against Adam. "I promise I won't tell anybody you cried, Uncle Adam. Even if I do hear you."

"Thanks little man." Adam whispered and then the conversation was apparently done as Jamie squirmed his way out of Adam's arms. The boy hopped back up on the couch preparing to launch himself into mid air again.

"No, Jamie. No more Batman. One hospital visit per Winchester encounter per day."

Jamie's green eyes sparkled and he started one last jump but Adam reached over and stopped him.

"Dude, I mean it." Adam said firmly.

"Okay, Adam." Jamie settled himself on the couch and reached for the clicker. "It's okay, I'll watch Batman on DVD!"

Adam reached over and gently untaped the childishly drawn batman mask from his nephew's face. "How 'bout we take this off so you an see TV better. " Adam had visions of Jamie walking into walls because while the kid may have been fearless, he obviously had no skills as an artist. The eyes looked like they'd be chewed out of batman's face. Adam said as much when he pulled the mask off and set it on the table.

Jamie looked oddly at Adam. "'Course I chewed out the eyes, Uncle Adam…Gramps won't let me play with scissors!"

Adam felt a little queasy wondering where the chewed up paper went but he figured in Jamie had swallowed it; there was nothing he could do now.

"Good thinking, kid." Adam nodded his approval and headed through the living room and the kitchen to meet his fate.

XXX

The walk to the barn never seemed so quick. He tried to slow it down by shortening his stride but it didn't work.

In no time at all he was standing in the comparative coolness of the barn. His father was leaning on Jamie's pony's stall. Adam could barely see the tips of Poe's ears over the stall door. As fat as he was tall, the pony was nothing but a babysitter on four hooves and he was everybody's favorite.

Dad turned at the sound of Adam's feet in the soft dirt.

"Is it true?"

"Yes, sir."

"So you punched little Cassidy Randall?

"Yes, sir."

"While you were at the river, where you are forbidden to go?"

Adam hated when his father asked questions that he already knew the answers to.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you have anything to say for yourself."?

"She hit me first."

"And that makes it right?"

"No, sir but it goes to motive."

"Goes to motive? What is this a bad re-run of Perry Mason?"

Adam didn't get the reference but he didn't want to disagree. "Maybe?"

"Would you have punched Cassidy if you hadn't been there?"

Adam shook his head for a moment. The old man had lost his mind. How could he have punched Cassidy if he hadn't been there?

"Huh?"

"You having a problem hearing, boy? Would you have punched her if you hadn't been there."

Adam tried to stop the eye roll; it was dark in the barn but probably not that dark.

"No sir."

"Okay – so you were wrong for disobeying a standing order about not going to the river and because of that, you wound up getting in an altercation with a twelve year old girl and slugged her in the face, 'causing her to loose her balance in the river and crack her head open."

Adam almost laughed a the "crack her head open" remark, he did let a small grin play on his face, "At least it wasn't me right?"

"Do you think this is funny, Adam?"

"No, sir."

"I don't think so either. I don't like getting phone calls from the sheriff saying that my son has punched a little girl in the nose and that she is on her way to the hospital for a possible concussion."

"Uh, Dad, I didn't really hit her nose, more her jaw and she just kind of slipped in the water when I did that."

"GOD DAMN IT, ADAM, I DON'T CARE IF IT WAS HER NOSE OR HER JAW. YOU PUNCHED A GIRL." His father roared then and Adam automatically took two steps back.

Dad followed Adam's two steps back with one big forward step of his own and pulled him roughly by the collar apparently to look for a spot to beat his ass. Spying a five-gallon bucket recently dumped of water, his father kicked it upside down and propped his leg up on it, tilting Adam over his right leg. It wasn't optimum for his father, Adam was pretty sure, but there was no obligatory hay bale laying in the aisle way and John Winchester was nothing if not good at making do with whatever was at hand. Freakin' McGyver.

His father started swatting his butt right over his jeans. It hurt like hell, it always hurt like hell. Adam wasn't sure if it was a good situation or a bad situation to start a but blistering with his jeans up.

Sometimes it meant that they would stay up.

Other times it meant there would be a gradual peeling off of garments until he was butt naked getting his ass blistered red.

Adam could never understand the wheres and whys of how Dad decided to spank. Not even Dean, who'd had the most experience under his belt, could determine Dad's spanking regimen. Sam thought Dad just spanked however he wanted whenever he wanted just to shake them up. Adam thought that might be the case too. He'd only been a Winchester for a little over a year and he'd been spanked in the barn, in his room, on the front porch, in a motel room, on the side of the road and on one memorable occasion, in a stinky restroom outside of Detroit.

All of these occasions had been for different things and for that Adam was grateful because it meant at least he was teachable. But the ass kickings themselves had been everything from an impromptu dump over one knee to a bare assed leathering that hadn't lasted very long at all.

This time it was over jeans and although it had the tipping over the one leg thing, Adam did not think there was anything impromptu about it. To start with, his Dad was blazing a trail across his ass with rapid-fire shots. But maybe Dad wasn't getting the expected reaction from Adam, because soon enough Dad unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and then shifted Adam up and off the one leg so he could drag his jeans down. It seemed impossible that the man could do that while balancing his foot on a water bucket, but apparently his Dad had all kind of mad skills and that including spanking Adam however he chose to in whatever position he wanted him in.

Adam had to admit he reacted with a little more volume for the over the boxers walloping.

The jeans hurt like the dickens, the boxers a helluva lot more. Dad didn't pull them down, which Adam was grateful for but honestly, bare assed and boxered beatings were pretty damn close. Bare assed was more embarrassing and sounded worse. Something about the slap of hand on ass that woke a boy up. But the boxers were scant protection against John Winchester's big hands.

Adam tried not to wiggle but it was pointless. Just like it was pointless to believe he wasn't going to cry. So he wiggled and cried. All that really seemed to do was make Dad pull him in tighter and smack a little harder.

Finally, it was over. Adam just lay boneless over his father's hard leg. The burn in his ass was monumental and whatever blood that hadn't migrated to his swollen ass had gone to his head so that when his Dad helped him up, he felt dizzy from the sudden change of position.

He was crying of course and Dad just backed off a bit to give him space while he pulled up his jeans. Adam appreciated that. He'd seen his brothers get smacked and they both seemed to want to be held afterward. Even Dean would stand quietly in the lee of Dad's arms and allow himself to get comforted. Adam didn't like that so much and how Dad knew it, Adam would never know. But his dad was intuitive sometimes about each of his sons. He treated them all the same but there were variances based on each boy and what each boy needed from him. In Adam's case, he stayed near Adam and made himself available but he didn't push himself on him either.

Once Adam got his breathing under control he did go over to his father and John pulled him into a brief hug.

"M' sorry, Dad."

"I know, son." Dad waited a moment, "Do you want to come up to the house with me or do you want to hang down here a bit."

"I'll come with…I got to let the runt know that you haven't killed me."

His father smiled.

"Not this time anyway, but if you ever hit another girl again, don't be surprised if the beat down you get makes you wish you were dead."

"Don't worry, Dad. I don't ever plan on hitting a girl again."

"Good man." Dad looped his arm around Adam's and they walked up the hill to the house.

"So, this girl Cassidy Randall – she like you or something?"

"Daaaad," Adam kind of whined, "She doesn't like me. She punched me in the face!"

"Well, I'm just saying stranger things have happened." Dad said knowingly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Adam sounded a little pissy even to himself and then he remembered that Dad had just whaled on his ass, so pissy was probably not a good idea. "Sir." He quickly tagged the end of the sentence.

"It means that while boys hitting girls is never acceptable, girls hitting boys? Well sometimes it means something else."

"Something else like what?"

"Like they have a crush on the person they sock."

Adam ducked out from under his father's arm. "Crush? Jeesh, Dad. Isn't it bad enough that I just got my butt whipped, did you have to bring Cassidy Randall liking me up?"

"I'm just trying to impart my personal knowledge of girls to my son."

"Dad, please, really, I don't want to talk about this. I never want to talk about this. "

"You know my Mary used to pummel the hell out of me routinely and she was the love of my life."

"Did you ever hit her back?"

"Once. Just once. Afterward, she beat the crap outa me and then my old man beat the crap outa me some more."

Adam thought for a second, "Well, like father like son."

"True, but that means that like my old man told me, I better never see you raise a hand to a girl again."

"Yes, sir." Adam said and meant it too.

And if Cassidy Randall thought she liked him? Well, Adam hoped it wasn't the truth. At all. Because her one punch had been deadly and if she decided he liked him enough to give him couple more then he just might find himself face planted in the dirt.

Dumb girls.