Title: La Llorona
John, Sam, Dean and Jamie -Jamie wants to hunt on his own. Things don't work out like he contains parental spanking. Don't read if it offends. Not making any money
Jamie Winchester had been raised as a hunter.
Jamie had been trained by the best.
He knew more sigils by the time he was eight than most people ever knew. By the time he was ten he could shoot almost as well as Dad, something Gramps verified and Dad reluctantly agreed upon. He was a black belt by twelve but more importantly, he could street fight better than his sensei. Even Uncle Bobby was impressed with his talent for Latin.
And he loved it all.
But despite all that, his family refused to let him work a real case. A hard case.
They hovered, mothered and smothered him. It was worse than living with three women.
The house was sigiled and warded out the ass, as well as the surrounding woods and farmland. Home was as safe as holy ground. Even the surrounding community had been EMFd and swept as clean as possible by all three Winchesters. Hell, Jamie was sure his school had been sigiled. The chance of Jamie finding a hunt on his own in this little Podunk Texas down was slim to none.
So the day a hunt, a real hunt, stumbled into his hands, he was so shocked that he almost went straight to Dad. The instinct to forward intel to his CO was ingrained in him. He was that well trained. But Jamie was no hound following his master's lead.
He was a Winchester.
Which meant that despite knowing what he should do, he had a mind of his own.
Something to prove to his family. He was a big kid. Independent. He could handle some shit on his own
He could hunt solo.
There would be hell to pay. Jamie knew that. But it would be worth it if he could show his family that he was ready for the big leagues.
It would take some initiative and a little subterfuge but with some luck, he was on his way to a real hunt.
He had overheard about La Llorona in the hardware store from some transient Mexicans who figured a little white kid wouldn't know Spanish. But Jamie had been born and raised in Texas and his affinity for language didn't end in Latin.
So Jamie listened to the tale and wondered how this version of the Woman in White had wound up at the river just outside of town. She must have been traveling the waterways looking for her next victim.
So he had a hunt. Next was research. And for that, he needed Uncle Sam.
XXX
"Uncle Sam." Jamie slammed the front porch screen door. The kid was like a one-man demolition crew. Sam looked up from the paper. Yes, it was an old school way to get info, but for Sam, sometimes the feel of paper and the scratch of a pen gave him more comfort than a laptop.
"Hey, Jamie. Stalls clean? Horses fed?"
Jamie skidded to a stop, all forward momentum stuttering. "Yeah. Hey, watcha doin' today?"
"Hopefully, not running down to that barn to make sure you did a good job." Jamie rolled his eyes. Sam knew it irritated Jamie, but chores were chores and just because Dean and his father were hunting; it did not mean that Jamie could slack off.
Jamie danced a moment in place as if he was deciding how much effort he had put into the barn in comparison to what was really required.
"It's good Uncle Sam. Everybody hayed and watered."
Sam studied Jamie over top of the newspaper. "I hope so, kiddo. " Sam really did not want to come down on the boy for not doing what he needed to do. But he looked at Jamie's earnest face and figured the kid understood.
He and Jamie had an agreement of sorts. He would try to cover for him, as long as whatever he did was not too God-awful, and in return, Jamie would try to be as honest as possible.
Sam figured maybe it was because he remembered what it was like to be the youngest Winchester. Then again, it could be because Jamie was manipulative in the nicest way, and Sam just allowed it to happen. In any case, it was all-good. His nephew was about the greatest thing since sliced bread as far as Sam was concerned.
"Can you take me into town? Me and JR wanna hang out. We're gonna meet at the library and then you know, chill for awhile."
Sam smiled. JR was a good kid and it was summer and Jamie should have the chance to hang with his friend. But there was something in Jamie's expression.
Or maybe it was lack of expression that made Sam a little worried. The kid was trying just a bit too hard to seem totally relaxed.
Sam sniffed and then offered an arched brow.
Sam Winchester knew something was up. This was his nephew for crying out loud. The boy was Winchester through and through. But Sam remembered fourteen and what that felt like. The need to be away. Alone. To be as far from prying adults as possible.
Besides this was his town. This town knew Jamie Winchester. Every shopkeeper and crossing guard; so it wasn't like he was dropping Jamie off in a war zone. Sam knew JR Banner. That kid was a follower at best and JR's dad was the local sheriff, no Jamie was safe.
But still Jamie was hiding something. It could be as innocuous as a girlfriend or maybe a swim at the local swimming hole with some of the kids in town. Nothing Sam would say no to, but more that Jamie wanted to choose to do it on his own without permission. Sam knew what that was like too. To be free to make some choices and maybe even make a mistake or two. It was something his childhood lacked. So when Jamie asked Sam to take him to town without a real reason, Sam let it and Jamie go.
He dropped him off at the library. Sam snorted. How many times had he used that as an excuse?
"Call me when you are done, Jamie. I want dinner at a reasonable hour tonight and I'm not sure when you dad and Gramps will be back."
Jamie nodded and scampered up the steps to the library, bouncing every step of the way. Sam shook his head.
The kid was going to have to work on his poker face.
XXX
Jamie congratulated himself on losing Sam. Plus the library was a great place to research La Llorona. He had been able to research a little at home, but Uncle Sam was too close not to know what hunt research was like. He was better off at the library.
He knew the lore but was having a hard time finding out how to kill her. The closest thing he could find regarding killing La Llorona was killing a banshee. They were related or so it seemed. He figured it was likely she would be repelled by salt. Cold forged iron might work for the kill. Then again, it might be better to use a combo of salt and iron. Or silver. Silver was always a good choice. Jamie fingered the silver knife he kept on him like some folks kept key chains.
Two hours of research left him no closer to finding out exactly what would work to kill the bitch then when Uncle Sam dropped him off. He loved research but got frustrated when he couldn't solve the puzzle quickly. He was so his father's son in that respect. Jamie decided to take the bull by the horns and make his way down to the river. Check out where the sighting was. See if there was any evidence there. First hand evidence gathering was better than dusty library books and computers any day.
The lore stated La Llorona came out at night to terrorize disobedient children. She had been used as a deterrent in Spanish and Mexican culture for years. A way to keep kids in line. Do what your parent's say or La Llorona will take you away
Although she was the Spanish version of the Lady in White, there were a lot of different variations. Some said she had killed her children by drowning, some lore said that her children had been killed by others. They all said that she was looking for her children and that she seemed to travel at night, haunting the waterways. It was just after 3pm so Jamie figured he would be safe even at the river. Just a little recon and then he would call Uncle Sam and be back home before dinner.
XXX
The river was sluggish. It often was this time of year. Jamie walked along the riverbed. There was no sign of La Llorona, but he knew that would be the case. Jamie huffed to himself, spirits were usually so predictable. Still, he hoped to find something that might let him know exactly what area of the river he should focus on to find her.
He mulled over how he would get back here late at night. His family protected him like pit bulls on steroids. He would need to find some kind of convincing alibi that would allow him down at the river at night.
It would be hard that was for sure. Maybe he could convince Uncle Sam to let him sleep over JR's and then camp out on the river instead. He was sure he could get JR to cover for him.
He picked up a rock and skipped it into the river. There was nothing going on. No signs of the Woman in White. No indication of where she might show up. He looked for trees like ash or rowan. They didn't really grow around here and they were associated with Celtic lore but still, supernatural was supernatural.
Nothing. Nada. Zip.
This was boring.
Stakeouts and recon could be boring but according to his Dad they were sometimes necessary.
He sat down on the sandy bank, crossed his legs and tried to figure out what his father would do. Or Uncle Sam or Gramps. Dad would be more inclined to hunt for La Llorona whether she was around or not. His father was more of a proactive hunter. Gramps would wait her out and Uncle Sam? Well he could go either way. Jamie needed some kind of game plan. Right now though, there was nothing happening, only the sound of the river and feel of the steamy afternoon heat.
He settled back on the beach threading his hands behind his head and tried to figure it out. Jamie yawned feeling the sun beat down on his face. The sand was comfortable and he just let himself relax into the afternoon.
Jamie woke to the feeling that it was colder than he thought it should be. There was no blazing sun on his face and the familiar sounds of the river seemed muted somehow.
Fuck. It was late. Really late. Past dinner late and he was in so much trouble that he could not even get his mind around it.
Uncle Sam was cool about most things but he would be pissed about this. Jamie checked his cell phone. Well double fuck. The damn thing was off. Jamie stupidly turned if off at the library. Mrs. Hemady was brutal about cell phones and had been known to confiscate them even if they were just vibrating.
He debated about turning it on, because he could almost hear the scathing verbal smack down that his uncle was sure to deliver. Well hell, he needed to call the man anyway. He flipped it on, waited a moment for a signal and then glanced briefly at all the missed calls.
Fuck.
It was then that he noticed how quiet it was. Supernaturally quiet. He reached down in his boot and pulled out the silver knife. It was perfectly weighted and fit Jamie's hand like a glove. It was just dusk and he could see pretty clearly across the river. There was an absence of sound. Nothing but the gentle movement of the water.
He felt more than heard a sound behind him and he spun quickly, knife up in classic defensive position.
La Llorona. She was beautiful and horrible. "Donde estan mis ninos?" Her voice was satin. Low and musical.
For a moment Jamie was enthralled.
"Aqui." His answer was just as quiet, he moved toward her slowly.
She reached for Jamie, her long arms stretching out for him. It would be nice to step into her embrace. Cool and dark. Welcoming.
In the back of his head he heard his father's voice. Strong and sharp. Wake the fuck up. Fight her!
Jamie recovered and danced forward on the balls of his feet. He was not a child to be reprimanded. Certainly not by a ghost. He slashed quickly, a vicious upward thrust that should have eviscerated her if she had been alive but did nothing more than wink her out of existence.
One minute she was there, the next gone.
Jamie was breathing heavy, his heart hammering in his chest. It occurred to him that this was such a bad idea. He rotated a quick 360. With no one to cover his back there was nothing to do but try to cover all the angles.
She was back a moment later with a scream that stilled his heart. She wailed low and melancholy. Jamie backpedaled and wisely headed to the bank as opposed to the river.
La Llorona liked to drown her victims and Jamie was not going to go quietly into that river.
So not happening, bitch.
Suddenly there was the comforting boom of a shotgun just to his right. In the dark he saw the tall form of his uncle. It was all he could do not to run straight for him.
But he was a hunter so moved out trying to surround La Llorona. With his uncle here, they could kill her.
"Jamie!" His uncle sounded sure and strong. "With me."
Jamie headed toward the sound at a quick jog. He was conditioned to respond to that voice without a moment's hesitation.
He stood next to his uncle and Jamie watched as Uncle Sam quickly scoured the horizon looking for La Llorona. But she was gone; the salt rounds having discouraged her from coming back at least momentarily
Uncle Sam grabbed Jamie and pushed him behind him, effectively using his body as a shield. He continued to back away from the river, covering him with the sawed off while carefully assessing the river and the bank.
Once they were safely out of the range of La Llorona, Sam grabbed Jamie far too hard and crushed him in a brief bear like hug. He ran a hand down his frame, a quick assessment to make sure all of his parts were still attached.
Jamie could have sworn he dropped a quick kiss to the top of his head and then he drug him roughly toward the truck that was parked just up on the bank. Uncle Sam opened the truck quickly and pushed Jamie in without preamble.
Jamie sat quietly and tried to get his heart rate to settle to a normal number. He took deep gulp of air and steadied his shaky hand. He wasn't scared though. Not about La Llorona.
Just adrenalin.
Being safe and sound with Uncle Sam felt oddly strange, mostly because his uncle was not speaking at all. It looked like his Uncle Sam was trembling too, something so unusual that Jamie looked away. He ventured another look as his uncle started up the truck. Uncle Sam's face was all pissy and hardened even in the darkness of the truck. He could see his uncle's knuckles pale and white as they wrapped around the steering wheel.
"Uncle Sam… " Jamie started. His voice sounded small even to himself.
Sam threw him a deadly look.
"Can it."
There was really nothing he could say. He had lied. Several times in fact. He had broken some huge Winchester rules. Plus La Llorona was still around to haunt the river. He had wanted to hunt by himself like a grown up. He wanted to show his family that he could handle this and now he had made a horrible mess.
It was bad and Jamie knew it.
XXX
Sam couldn't remember ever feeling so angry with Jamie. Ever. He wasn't sure if it was because the boy lied to him, or because he decided to hunt on his own. Or if part of it was because he was mad with himself for allowing this to happen. Because Sam Winchester grew up with John Winchester, and as angry as the man got him sometimes, Sam knew this would have never happened on John Winchester's watch. Jamie wouldn't have snuck out to hunt if John was watching him. Hell, Sam wouldn't have at Jamie's age either.
Sam would have never lied about a hunt at fourteen. He had lied about other stuff when he was a kid, but not about that. During the quiet drive home he wondered why.
It wasn't that Sam had been the most obedient kid in the world. It wasn't that he respected his father more than Jamie respected him. It wasn't that he loved John more than Jamie loved Sam.
Plain and simple, he had been terrified of his father at fourteen.
John Winchester had let a lot of shit go, but he had been dead serious about hunting. Training and following orders. John would have killed Sam if had ever pulled this stunt. Growing up Sam would have never admitted it, but fear can be an impressive deterrent to dangerous behavior and right now Sam blamed himself.
He let Jamie play around and almost lost him tonight because of it. He deserved an ass kicking as much as his nephew. Lord knows Dean would kill him if he realized that Jamie had snuck out under his nose. His father would be waiting in line to clean his clock as well. This family had rules for a reason, and Sam had gotten complacent when making sure that Jamie followed them
He glanced over at Jamie. He could see the kid was upset and worried.
Good.
He had every reason to be.
XXX
Jamie waited for the truck to pull up in front of the house before he tried to say anything again
"Uncle Sam…I'm sorry."
"In the house, mister and to your room. We are gonna talk about this in the morning."
"Can we talk now? I don't wanna wait 'till tomorrow." Jamie's voice was shaky and shit he thought he might start crying.
"What you want, doesn't mean jack shit, Jamie. Get your ass upstairs and in your room. NOW."
Jamie bolted up the front door and up the steps to his room. He slammed the door harder than was necessary and fell face down on his bed. He couldn't help but cry which was stupid. He was fourteen and not a baby. Uncle Sam had not even touched a hair on his head. All he could think about though was how he had disappointed the man and what tomorrow would bring
The next day Jamie woke to the smell of coffee and the murmur of voices downstairs. Fuck. His father and grandfather had come in sometime between last night and this morning.
He pulled on a pair of jeans and shoved his feet into boots. It was Saturday and he knew Uncle Sam was going to kill him, but the horses needed to be fed and the barn mucked. Maybe if he headed down there first thing Uncle Sam would see how responsible he was and would realize that last night was just a stupid mistake.
Nah.
The prospect of seeing his uncle, grandfather and father in the same room was almost more than he could take. If he thought he could run away and make it somewhere before they caught him, he would seriously consider it. It wasn't just because he knew he was in trouble and that his ass was soon to be a shade of red not ever seen in something other than baboons. It was more that he was horribly, terribly embarrassed. He had let them all down. What kind of hunter allowed last night to happen
He fucking fell asleep on the riverbank and all but asked La Llorona to kill his skinny white ass and now he was going to pay the price.
He clumped down the steps and walked into the kitchen to find all three Winchester's looking at him with varying degrees of anger.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" That was his father. "You were almost killed by that bitch and all you can say is 'sorry'?
Jamie hung his head. Oh shit, he felt like he might cry again. His father reached over and pulled him into a rough hug. Jamie was not expecting that. He didn't want to be hugged or cuddled. He wanted to get this shit over with. He didn't struggle but stiffly refused to return the hug. He kind of wanted to but he didn't deserve the feeling of being enveloped in his father's arms.
"Shit kid. What are we gonna do with you?" Dad pushed him back and if Jamie didn't know any better he would figure his dad might be crying. But that was stupid. Winchester's didn't cry. Unless they were Jamie Winchester and about to get there ass handed to them.
Jamie pulled away and did his best not to meet his father's eyes. "I got no excuse, Dad."
"Damn straight, boy." That was Gramps. Jamie's grandfather stood totally immobile, arms crossed and leaning in the door jam. If Jamie did not want to look his father in the face, he surely did not want to see the darkened scowl that covered John Winchesters face.
"Gramps, really. I was just scouting it out… "
"Scouting out a spirit that targets children!" John Winchester roared and Dad, Sam and Jamie all took a step back. Although to be truthful, Dad and Sam really had nothing to worry about. It was just reflex for them. Not for the first time, Jamie was glad that he was Gramps' grandson and not his kid.
"It sounds stupid when you say it like that." Jamie muttered low.
"Ya think?" That was Uncle Sam.
Jamie just shook his head and then rolled his eyes. In retrospect, the eye roll was not too smart but in Jamie's defense being grilled by all three Winchesters at the same time would make any kid a little crazy.
Uncle Sam grabbed Jamie by the collar and jerked him briskly forward. It was only a step or two but Jamie's belly clenched.
"Do not roll your eyes at me, boy."
"Yes, sir." Jamie knew when to shut up. When to back down. Right now shutting up and backing down were plain self-preservation maneuvers. His uncle gave him a brief shake, as if that was his original intention with the collar clean and jerk.
"Get down to the barn and get your chores done. Hustle." Uncle Sam growled low and shoved Jamie in the general vicinity of the front door.
Jamie walked slowly to the barn. A moment later he heard his uncle yell from the back porch. "I said move it!"
Jamie double-timed it down to the barn.
This was going to be really bad. He had a feeling that taking care of the horses was just an excuse to get him in the barn. He figured there would be no witnesses to hear him holler.
Just the fact that Sam wanted him there, physically away from the house brought a shudder across his face. He had never gotten a barn whippin' before but somehow he was sure he was not going to like it.
He stepped into the barn and flipped on the lights. The horses whickered low and eager. He stepped into the feed room and pulled the feed wheelbarrow to he first stall, dumping grain into to the bucket and moved on to the next. Three stalls down he could hear his father's gelding kick the stall in anticipation. Ah, to be a horse and have nothing to worry about but that breakfast might be a few minutes late.
He finished up and turned the horses out then started mucking stalls. He got to the last stall and suddenly wished he had a few more to do. How long was Uncle Sam going to leave him down here?
He heard his uncle's feet on the crush and run outside the barn and turned toward the sound. Jamie did not know how the man's footsteps could sound mad but they did.
Jamie watched as Uncle Sam walked into the dimly lit barn. He stopped mucking long enough to nod in his uncle's direction.
Uncle Sam seemed to study Jamie, as if he was figuring out exactly what he was planning on doing. Jamie steadfastly ignored the older man's gaze and continued on with the stall. He finished up, dumped the load of manure and headed back.
"C'mere." Sam crooked a finger in Jamie's direction. Jamie shuffled over, head down. He so did not want to be here.
"Whatcha got to say for yourself, Jamie."
"I was researching, Uncle Sam. I wasn't planning on staying there last night. I just fell asleep." It sounded ridiculous even to Jamie's ears.
"So you weren't planning on hunting her, you were just checking it out."
Jamie met his uncle's gaze. He couldn't lie.
"No, sir. I was gonna hunt. But not last night. I didn't have enough intel. I wouldn't have done it without more information."
"But you would have gone after her right? Even though you knew that I wouldn't approve. "
Again, Jamie figured that any more lies would be just plain stupid. "Yes, sir. I think I would have but not right away. "
"And you and JR? Did you ever have anything planned with him yesterday?"
Jamie wilted under Uncle Sam's glare.
"No, sir. It was just an excuse."
"A lie huh?"
"Yes, sir."
Uncle Sam took a deep breath. "Jamie, I am so disappointed. You know better than this. You know the lore about La LLorona. You know the rules we have about hunting alone. You know how this family feels about lying and where that will get you. Not to mention the fact that now both your father and Gramps are giving me the evil stare of death."
Jamie wasn't sure if that was really a question and he was tired of siring anyway. He just wanted Uncle Sam to get on with it.
"I'm sorry. It was stupid and I know it was wrong, I just wanted to prove to you that I could do it."
"All that you proved young man, was that you need some more instruction on what you should and should not be doing."
Jamie winced. He so hated that 'young man' shit.
"C'mon, Uncle Sam. Gimme a break. I'm trying here."
Sam blew hard through his mouth and pinched the top of his nose. "You are trying nothing, Jamie. Nothing but my nerves and right now that is not what you need to be doing."
"Uncle Sam…" Jamie started but really had nothing more to say.
"Okay kid, lets get this over with."
Sam fingered his belt briefly, an unconscious but incredibly terrifying action in Jamie's eyes. Then with a soft huff, Sam slid his belt from his jeans, sat down on a bale of hay and motioned for Jamie to lay down over his lap.
"Oh, shit, Sam …not the belt. C'mon. I mean I got it alright? I know it was stupid and I shouldna done it but not the damn belt."
"Damn straight ya shouldna done it, but ya did. It's bullshit, Jamie. You knew it was stupid yesterday and you went ahead and did it. You're not ten for fucks sake. You want to hunt like a man, like a Winchester, than you take your licks like one too."
For a brief moment Jamie thought about cutting and running. He might be able to make it to the barn door before his uncle caught him and if he slammed the wooden wind brace shut quick enough, he could trap him in the barn long enough to make it to he house and….what the fuck was he thinking? The house just held more Winchesters as angry as Uncle Sam.
He tried Jamie puppy dog eyes. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
They had no effect on Sam except to get him more pissed.
"Uncle Sam, can't we talk about this? Just like you said, man to man." Jamie was supposed to be heading toward Sam. But he found himself backing up instead. God, he was such a wuss
Sam snorted once and then his hazel eyes turned darker."I've had enough, Jamie. If you don't have your ass over my lap in three seconds, I swear you are gonna wish to hell you had.
"Fuck…Uncle Sam." Jamie was really panicking now, he shifted his weight from one foot to another.
"One."
"Let me explain…" His heart was hammering in his chest and he thought he might be sweating. Maybe he was sick? Uncle Sam wouldn't swat a sick kid would he?
"Two." Sharp and staccato. Uncle Sam was quickly loosing any patience he might have had.
Then a deep breath.
Jamie was not prepared for three. In his whole life he had only hit three once and that was from his father.
He dove across the small stretch of barn and landed over his uncle's lap. Jamie was only minimally gratified to hear the oophff as his uncle adjusted to the weight of his body across his lap.
"You are lucky, buddy boy, you almost lost your jeans."
Yeah, lucky. His jeans were threadbare and faded, almost like being butt naked anyway.
But Jamie didn't say that of course, he was an idiot but not a moron. Uncle Sam wasted no time, now that Jamie was comfortably settled across his lap he started smacking him fast and hard with his open palm.
Jamie sucked in a deep breath. God, his uncle's hand was abnormally big, one whack and his whole ass burned. And Uncle Sam was going to make sure that Jamie did not forget this lesson, Jamie could tell already.
Sam had a couple of spanking styles. First was a quick swat or two. Hurt like hell because the man was a fucking Yeti. He had more power in one quick cuff than most folks had for a real smacking.
Then there was the "gonna make you think about this one." Classic stage two Uncle Sam spanking. You remembered it for awhile. You did your best to avoid it again. Usually you survived it with your humility intact but sometimes you didn't. It just depended on how pissed he was and how stupid you had been.
Then there was a class three ass whipping. Sometimes bare assed, sometimes not ,but it didn't matter because you were not gonna forget it. You were gonna be sleeping on your belly for days. You often found yourself babbling incoherently to him half way through. Begging for forgiveness. Offering your first born. Doing whatever the hell he wanted you to do just to stop the ass onslaught. This was the ass whipping that often culminated in the belt and just a few strokes in, Jamie knew this was where he was headed today.
So he just started hollering early. It helped somehow. Sam didn't expect him to be quiet anyway.
It occurred to Jamie that he was kind of happy they lived on 73 acres. That way he wouldn't be embarrassed by the volume of his yells. Oh, they sure enough heard him up at the house, but that was okay. The rest of his family was pretty good at dishing out spankings too.
Uncle Sam stopped a moment but the reprieve was short lived. Jamie felt him move and knew that his uncle was grabbing the folded leather belt. Then the quick tell tale whistle of leather and the familiar thwack as it struck his ass.
Well fuck a duck. He was never gonna hunt again. Not alone. Not with his family.
He figured he would just retire at fourteen.
Another solid smack.
A priest. He was going to become a priest.
The third stripe would have caused him to buck off his uncle's lap except that the man had him gripped like iron
Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. FUCK.
"Jamie. Cussing isn't gonna help."
Oh shit. Now he was thinking out loud. Make that yelling out loud.
Another brisk spank of the belt caused a loud yelp. But that just rolled into a cry.
Jamie lost count. Really it didn't matter. Everything was just one long ass pain. He slumped against his uncle's lap and sobbed. In between swacks and yells.
Finally, Uncle Sam stopped. Jamie didn't though. He just cried and cried. Big broken sobs that should have melted Sam's heart.
Maybe they did a little because he felt Sam's hellishly big hand rubbing gentle circles on his back, quieting the deep gasping breathing.
"Shhhh."
Sam' s hard hand threaded up the back of Jamie's sweaty neck and head, caressed his hair in a way that was so intimate and so Sam that it caused another deluge of tears.
His uncle loved him. So fiercely that no one, including Jamie himself, was gonna make him lose him.
Not to a ghost.
A demon.
Or La Llorona.
Jamie shuddered one more time and then slowly pushed himself off his uncle's lap. Uncle Sam stood and pulled Jamie into a hard embrace. Jamie just let himself melt into Sam, feeling the hard pull of his arms, the gentle strength that moments ago was kicking his ass.
He sniffed into Sam's shirt. He smelled of soap and gun oil and home. Jamie was a big kid but Sam dwarfed him. And it felt good. He was safe here. And loved. To the point of wishing he was less loved at times. But it was good.
"C'mon kiddo, lets get you cleaned up and get on up to the house." He handed Jamie some Kleenex and gave him a minute to pull himself together.
Sam glanced around the barn, gestured vaguely in the direction of the stalls. "Is this barn clean, Jamie? I don't want to have to give ya hell about that too."
"It's good Uncle Sam. I just need to dump and wash the water buckets though."
Jamie sniffed hard, wiped a hand under his nose, thankful for the change in conversation.
Jamie watched as Uncle Sam headed off to the first stall. "I'll give you a hand. "
His uncle effortlessly lifted the five-gallon water bucket and grabbed the scrub brush off the wall. A quick scrub, swish and dump then he left it right side up in the sun to dry.
Jamie was slowly working on the second stall by the time Sam was done with the fourth.
This was his job, not Sam's, why was the guy being so damn nice, especially after kicking his ass? Maybe because of kicking his ass. Jamie wasn't sure. He must have broadcast it to Sam somehow though, because his uncle grinned.
"Teamwork, Jamie. It's all about working together. Cleaning the barn. Or working a job. We gotta back each other up. This is not a one man gig."
"Got it Uncle Sam."
"I sure hope so, Jamie. I know you might not believe it, but I surely don't like walloping you."
"For a man who doesn't like doing something, you sure do a bang-up job on it."
"Didn't say I wasn't good at it, just that I didn't like it."
Sam smiled slow and easy. So different from the angry dude who beat his ass ten shades of red a few minutes ago.
"Good? Uncle Sam, if ass beating was an Olympic event, you would be loaded with gold medals, dude. If I didn't know any better, I would figure you had practiced on someone before me."
Sam laughed out loud. "You have got to be kiddin' me? I was the youngest Winchester for far longer than you have been around, kiddo. I spent my childhood getting my ass handed to me by both your grandfather AND your father. My expertise in ass whippins' comes from being on the receiving end believe me."
Jamie snickered at the thought of his ginormous uncle getting his butt smacked by his grandfather or better yet, his dad.
Sam finished up the last bucket, flipped it right side up and set it out in the sun. He casually draped an arm over Jamie and Jamie let it happen. Uncle Sam, ruffled his hair with the other hand and casually started leading him back up the drive way to the house.
"So, how much trouble are you in Uncle Sam?"
"Oh, lots. I almost let you get killed by an old Spanish ghost. I'm not sure who I am
gonna get nailed by first; your dad or my dad."
"Well, I don't think you will fit over either one's lap. You should be good to go."
Uncle Sam pulled Jamie in closer, smiled and pressed a kiss onto his head.
"You would think so Jamie-boy, but it never stopped them before."
end