Title: Of Fathers, Uncles and Sons
Rating: Gen. PG 13 for potty mouth. Sam, Dean and Ben (John is not alive in this verse) (AU)Warning: Spanking and language. I had this huge back-story but it was just boring so here is where we stand. Lisa has contacted Dean. She has admitted that Ben's his son but at 14 he has been getting into trouble that she has not been able to handle. They mutually decide that Ben is staying with Dean for the summer.
The boy stepped out of security like he owned Dallas. Shades, jeans, a leather jacket and knapsack slung over his right shoulder. For a moment it was like Dean was looking back at himself at that age. Except Ben's hair was darker and longer than Dean had ever worn it, even in his most rebellious moments. Ben wasn't quite as bulky as Dean had been, but then he didn't 10 years of the John Winchester conditioning program under his belt either.
Dean noticed as Ben spotted him from across the concourse. The boy positively radiated defiance. He sauntered over to Dean, offered him a brief head nod and a "Hey."
"Great to see you too, Ben." Dean figured a hug would be awkward and a handshake too formal, so he just reached out to give the boy a hand with his duffle.
"I got it." came the reply and Ben jerked the bag back tighter against his shoulders.
Dean nodded.
"So, uh, how was the flight?" Dean hoped the kid didn't hear the tremor in his voice. Was it because he was stuck in this damn airport with the continuous sound of jets coming and going or was it because this was the first time he had seen his kid in six years? The first time he had really seen Ben as his kid ever.
"Fine." Well, at least he did not inherit his father's flying phobia. Were phobia's hereditary? Dean didn't think so, but up until about three days ago, whether something was hereditary or not made little difference in his life.
The walk to the car was quiet, with Dean trying not to look at the lanky fourteen year old who slouched and sauntered at the same time.
The boy glared at Dean after a particularly long glance. "Why don't you take a picture next time? It'll last longer."
Dean laughed out loud. "I haven't heard that in years…is that the best you got?"
Ben blushed, freckles standing out sharply against his pale skin. It didn't look like he was embarrassed as much as mad. Ben humpffed and snugged his bag a little closer.
"Whatever."
Dean looked at this kid, his son, and for the first time had some reservations. It was gonna be along ride back to the house and maybe a longer summer.
XXX
"Hey, Dean, can we stop? I need to take a leak."
Dean turned to Ben, "Sure, kid. We need to get gas anyway."
They pulled into a mom and pop gas station with an attached convenience store. Dean pumped gas, while Ben headed off to the bathrooms. Then Dean stopped into the attached store to pay his bill.
It occurred to Dean that maybe the kid might be thirsty. Dean eyed up the drink section. His first thought was milk. Kids need milk, didn't they? But then he remembered himself at 14 and milk was something he wouldn't have grabbed. He glanced at the Cokes, nah too much sugar. Finally he opted for some kind of flavored vitamin water that cost more than a good beer did and then he grabbed a cup of coffee for himself.
As Dean paid for his purchases, it crossed his mind that John Winchester would no more have bought Dean flavored vitamin water than he would have gone figure skating.
He stepped outside the door to see Ben, hip to quarter panel smoking a cigarette.
"Hey! What the hell are you doin'?"
The boy stepped away from the car like it was on fire.
"Sorry, dude. I wasn't really hurtin' her or anything."
"No, Ben. Not the car! What the hell are you doin' with the cigarette?"
Ben looked at Dean, puzzlement evident. "Smokin' it, what do you think?"
"Not anymore you're not." Dean reached over and pulled the offending cigarette out of the boy's mouth, dropped it on the ground and promptly stepped on it. "Christ, this is a gas station, Ben."
"Now pick that shit up and throw it away. No smoking." Dean added, looking at the crushed butt.
"You just can't stop smokin' like that."
"Yeah, you can. And you just did. Gimme the rest of your smokes."
Ben crossed his arms. "Look, Dean. There is no reason to stroke out. I wasn't smokin' in your ride or anything. Jeeze."
"Stroke out! I can stroke out if I want to. You better be damn lucky you didn't smoke in my girl 'cause then you would see strokin' out of epic proportions. Give me your smokes, clean up the butt and get your ass in the car."
Reluctantly, Ben reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and handed them to Dean.
He picked up the butt from the ground and walked over to the trashcan. There was an overly dramatic flourish when he dropped the butt in the trashcan. Dean followed and dumped the cigarettes.
They got in the car, Ben sullenly sitting at shotgun.
"Don't you know those things will kill ya?" Dean asked. He turned to Ben briefly as he started up the Impala.
"Like what you do every day won't kill ya."
"Not the same, dude."
Dean handed the boy the water. Ben glared at the bottle. "Vitamin water? Why didn't you just get me a bottle of milk while you were at it?"
Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn't remember it being this hard with Sammy.
XXX
Ben glanced covertly at his father occasionally during the two-hour ride since the gas station. He tried not to because he was mad and he didn't want Dean to think he really cared.
Except he kind of did.
The cigarettes pissed him off. He had another pack, but those things were not cheap. Just because Dean was his father, it didn't mean he had to listen to him. It didn't mean jack shit to Ben. He had lived without Dean most of his life and had managed so far to do all right. If it wasn't for his mother and her panic stricken pain in the ass ways, he would still be home chillin' out with his boys and having fun. Instead he was stuck in a car with a man who he barely knew.
Maybe eight-year-olds thought differently from fourteen-year-olds, or maybe his memory was faulty, because the Dean he thought he knew was awesome.
This Dean was a royal pain.
At least his ride was sweet.
He must have nodded off because his next recollection was the Impala rolling over crush and run. A very different feeling then the smooth asphalt they had been driving on.
Ben blinked, opened his eyes.
"You have got to be kiddin' me?"
"Home sweet home for the next two months, kiddo."
It was an old farm house that looked to be in the middle of a field. There was no delineation between the field and the lawn, only the crush and run drive way that seemed to go on forever. Behind it was a barn that looked to be in even more disrepair if that was possible.
"Seventy three acres of grass and woods, a little pond and not much of anything else. Perfect huh?"
Ben turned to his father. "Never mind. Turn around. I'm going home. There is no fuckin' way I am living…" he pointed to the gray non-descript house. "there."
"First off, watch your mouth. Second off, it's a pretty awesome set up. Indoor plumbing, a gas stove and a fire place with all the wood you need to keep warm if it wasn't 98 degrees out. – No AC though. That's a bitch. And you even have your own room." Dean gestured as if having your own room was noteworthy.
Ben could not believe that the man seemed almost proud of the place.
"Sam and I got this for almost nothing a few months ago."
"You were ripped off. Take me home."
Dean had pulled the car up to the house. Put it in gear and turned off the engine.
"Sorry, dude. This is it for a while."
There was no way Ben was going to live in that heap. "Not happening, Dean. No way."
"Suit yourself Benny, but it is 98 right now and in about 10 minutes it will be 120 in this car, even in the shade. At least there are fans in the house."
Ben snorted. "So, I'll walk back to the main road. Hitch a ride back to Dallas and be on the first plane home that I can find."
Dean seemed to consider it for a second.
"Well, the walk to the main road is at least 45 minutes, we are set pretty far back here. The main road is not really very well traveled so I don't know when you would be able to hitch a ride anywhere. The last thing to consider is that although your last name is Braeden, you are a Winchester, and Winchester's don't hitch. The last time your uncle hitched a ride he wound up tangling with a demon - so nope. There's no hitchin'"
Ben opened the door of the Impala, grabbed his duffel and slammed the car door with as much force as he could muster and started heading down what passed for a driveway in this God forsaken hell hole.
"It's been nice knowing you, DAD. But this is not workin' out." Ben yelled it over his shoulder with as much sarcasm as he could muster.
For an old man, Dean could move pretty quickly. Ben should have remembered that. In less time than it took for Ben to realize what had happened. Dean grabbed him roughly by the arm and spun him around.
Three sharp smacks hit his ass.
"What the fuck?" Ben yipped indignantly.
"Don't you ever fuckin' slam my girl like that again and you better watch your mouth because getting two warnings around here isn't likely to happen again. Now turn your ass around and get up to that house before I really get pissed off." Ben felt Dean shove him toward the house.
"Dude! What are you? Some kind of control freak or something? " Ben started heading for the house though. He could barely feel the sting of the swats through the anger that rolled off of him in waves. Who the hell did Dean think he was? He just spewed what his brain was thinking.
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Your father. Deal."
Ben had no retort for that 'cause it was true. He knew it was true from the first time his mother had dropped the big news on him. Ben stumbled up the steps and flung open the front door barreling past Sam who was heading out.
This sucked.
XX
Dean watched the retreating form of his son almost smash into his brother at the front door.
Sam offered a confused WTF glance to Dean.
Dean ran a hand across his face, palm still stinging from the swats he had given the boy.
"Well, that went over like a fart in church."
Sam turned toward the sound of Ben stomping up the stairs, turned back to his brother.
"What happened?"
"I lost my temper with the little shit, that's what happened. He's got a mouth like a sailor and attitude like a hell hound and damn…" Dean leaned against the front quarter panel of the Impala. "I don't know what the fuck I am doing."
"Dean, you know what you are doing. You just about raised me. It's just new and well…complicated."
"I helped raise you, I was Dad's back up. I did a lot, but he was ultimately the one we had to answer to. This kid? It's just me. I'm the dad." Dean seemed a little shocked at saying the words out loud.
Dean moved from the car to the front steps and sat down. Sam folded himself next to him on the steps. For a moment there was nothing.
"Well, how would Dad have handled it?"
"Not with three swats to the ass, I'll tell you that." Dean
"You swatted him? Not five minutes after you get in the driveway?" Sam seemed genuinely confused.
"See – right there, that's why I should not be a dad. I can't even control my temper for five minutes. Maybe I should just call Lisa and tell her that I don't wanna fuck the boy up anymore than I already have."
"Dean, listen. Lisa needs you. Lord knows Ben needs you. You just have to figure it out. It'll work out. It has to."
Dean took a deep breath. He was Ben's dad, not John Winchester. Maybe he just needed to approach things differently than his father had. His father would have been just about done beating his ass for the shit that went down. Dean's default had been to swat Ben. Maybe he just needed to be the kind of dad he thought he should be, not the kind of dad that his father was. It flashed through Dean's head that his dad might have had his faults but given the circumstances he had been a hell of a father.
"So what, I go up an apologize for whackin' him when my gut is telling me the boy needs more discipline not less?"
Sam shook his head. "I dunno, I was never too fond of Dad's right hand but sometimes he had a point."
Sam smiled and then angled his head away from the sun. "It doesn't seem fair though. We grew up knowing what was expected of us and what the repercussions would be if we stepped too far out of line. Ben has no clue. Why don't you just give yourself sometime to chill, give him some time to acclimate and then sit down and go over some parameters. You know, spell it out."
Dean thought about it. Sam was pretty good at figuring shit out, maybe he was right. Let the boy relax. Maybe go inside and grab himself a beer and relax too. Then go talk to Ben, man to man. Father to son. Explain how it was gonna be and go from there.
XXX
Ben sat on the edge of the bed in what he figured was his room. There was a single bed, a dresser and a small desk. It was clean, sparse and bland. Everything that his big room back home was not. Back home had a computer, a TV, stereo and a huge double bed. He had video games, his stuff and yeah, his friends. Here he had a pain in the ass father.
Literally.
This was not a bedroom, it was a barracks.
He grabbed his duffel and found the cigarettes. He desperately wanted one. Dean may have said that he quit, but his last smoke was hours ago and Ben needed the reassuring feel of the cigarette in his hands and smoke down his lungs.
There was no doubt that Dean would smell a cigarette in here but maybe... Ben opened the window and noted with satisfaction that the angle of the roof was not too bad, he could sit out there comfortably. He grabbed his smokes, lighter and hopped out on the roof. He lit the cigarette and drew in the comforting drag of smoke. It stopped him from shaking, he could feel his body slowly unwind. It was a fast smoke with Ben hot boxing the cigarette but it worked. He carefully put it out, grabbed the butt and went back in the window. He stopped by his duffel, grabbed the toothbrush and headed to the bathroom. Butt down the toilet, quick toothbrush and some Listerine, then washed his hands.
Yup. That will do.
Ben headed back to his room. Shut the door, turned on the fan and propped it up against the window than promptly laid down on the bed and fell asleep.
XXX
Dean walked carefully up the steps, unconsciously avoiding the inside edge of the third step because the floorboard squeaked.
He opened the door to Ben's room after a quick knock. The kid was out like a light laying on top of the bed still with his shoes on.
A pain as real as if he had been impaled on a stake drove through his chest. This was his kid. His boy. He owed it to Ben to do the best he could by him. Help him make the right decisions, show him what it meant to be a man. A good man. Dean thought he could make a difference. Maybe. Sam was good man, Dean knew this like he knew the smell of a recently fired gun. Dean knew he had been at least partially responsible for the man Sam had become.
So he was starting a little late with Ben and he didn't have his father to help him. But he did have Sam. Sam was right. He could do this.
XXX
Ben woke to the smell of bacon. He glanced at his watch, pushed the back light on it to see it was 7am. Had he just slept for14 hours? He looked again, the sun was up but just barely. Damn, he could not ever remember sleeping so long. He stretched and realized right off that if he didn't pee in the next 5 minutes he was going to whether or not there was a toilet around.
Ben stumbled to the bathroom. Pissed, flushed, and washed his hands. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. His dark brown hair curled in unruly waves around the nape of his neck. There were no smudged circles under his eyes, something he had grown used to recently. The smattering of freckles he thought were so damn obnoxious made him think of his father down in the kitchen. Freckles, why couldn't Dean have done something a little more impressive genetically then give him freckles.
Objectively, he figured he resembled his father. Father. That was a hard pill to swallow.
He found it hard to think of Dean Winchester, the awesome dude who saved him and the other local kids from changelings, to be the same guy who was downstairs frying bacon. The old Dean was cool, and worked a blowtorch and had fucking saved his life. The man downstairs had actually spanked his ass for being a bitch. He wasn't a bitch and he didn't deserve that shit.
He took a deep breath and headed back to his room. Grabbed the cigarettes and headed to the roof, carefully shutting the window behind him.
Ben lit up and smoked on the roof. He wanted another but did not want to push it. He ground out the cigarette and jumped back through the window only to be met by his uncle.
Damn.
Shit he was tall. Ben figured he knew that but somehow all he really remembered was how big Dean was. When Ben thought about what went down six years ago, Sam had just been Dean's brother. Dean had been the person who seemed so big and brave. Dean had been the hero.
Until now. Ben again berated his eight-year-old brain and why he had not noticed that Sam was a Yeti.
"Hey, Ben." Sam's voice was deceptively quiet. "Whatchadoing?"
"
Just checkin' out the place." Ben found it hard to meet his uncle's eyes. Which was so stupid, because he had no reason to feel guilty. So he smoked. It was what it was. Dean wasn't gonna get him to stop. Sam surely wasn't either.
"On the roof?"
Ben nodded toward the window. "Nice view."
"I thought Dean told you not to smoke?" Sam asked.
"What? Did you guys go over a play by play since I walked off the plane?" Ben knew he sounded pissed.
"No, but we talked a little. You can't smoke, Ben. Nothing's gonna change that, so you need to stop now. Going out on the roof isn't the smartest thing ever either. It can get slick up there."
Ben took a deep breath, he figured he would try reasoning. "Listen, Sam, I know you and Dean mean well and I appreciate all you two did for me when I was a kid. But I'm not a kid anymore and I can make some decisions myself. Mom knows I smoke. She doesn't like it, but she knows about it so what is the big deal?"
Sam took a deep breath. "The big deal is that it can kill you. You are a smart kid. Read the pack of cigarettes, it has more warnings than your father and I got when it came to hunting, so yeah, it's a big deal."
Ben thought about it for a minute.
"So are you gonna go running to Dean and tell him you caught me smoking on the roof?"
Sam looked toward the window. "I dunno, Ben. Can you promise me this is it? No more sneaking smokes out on the roof? No more smoking period."
Ben rolled his eyes. These two were like fuckin' Nazis. "Yeah, Sam. You got it."
"Okay. I'll let it go. Go wash up and come on down for breakfast. Dean has probably eaten a half pound of bacon by now."
Ben eased past Sam and to the bathroom. Washed up and brushed his teeth. Day number one as a Winchester and it was not looking good already.
XXX
Dean watched as Sam walked into the kitchen without Ben.
"Is he coming?"
Sam smiled. "He is your kid, Dean. The smell of bacon was better than an alarm clock."
Dean smiled too. His kid. He liked the ring of that.
A moment later, Ben shuffled in to the kitchen and made a beeline for the crisp bacon strips sitting in the middle of the table. He grabbed a piece and settled himself in a chair.
"Mornin'." Dean tried his brightest sounding voice. "Is scrambled okay?"
Ben grunted what seemed like an approval so Dean continued letting said scrambled eggs cook.
"Ben, can you put some bread in the toaster?" Dean thought he sounded very father-like when he said that.
Again, Ben mumbled something indecipherable, but he grabbed the bread and popped a couple pieces in the toaster.
"Sleep well?"
Ben positively glared at Dean for that one.
"Are you always so perky in the morning?" Ben asked, pausing to rub a hand down his face. "'Cause Dean, I am not much into mornings. Really. Coffee would be good. Do we have coffee?"
Sam grinned from across the table.
"Told ya. Definitely your kid."
Dean shot Sam a withering glance.
"Sam and I have coffee. You can have milk or orange juice or something that has some kind of healthy properties to it."
"Healthy properties? Who the hell says something like that?"
Dean turned and offered his own glare.
"Me. Here's your eggs." Dean divided up the eggs in threes and slid a portion on each plate. Then he placed the frying pan on the stove.
"Milk or OJ?"
"Neither."
"Fine."
"Fine."
Dean glanced at Sam. He could see it written as clearly as if Sam was talking.
A Mexican standoff over morning beverages?
But Dean had no intention of giving the kid coffee so standoff it was, Mexican or otherwise.
The rest of breakfast was quiet with nothing but the sound of silver wear on plates.
Finally Sam spoke. "So what's the plan for today?"
"I was figurin' we could paint. First we gotta scrape the house though, then prime it, and then paint it. It's a big project but with all of us working on it, it'll go faster. The scrapers and stuff are in the barn next to…"
"Whoa, hold it there dude." Ben broke in. " I don't paint and I surely don't scrape. I may be stuck here for the summer, but that doesn't mean I am your slave labor. You two wanna scrape and paint, knock your socks off. Paint like fuckin' Picasso, but count me out."
Dean narrowed his eyes. The little shit. Who the hell did he think he was? "You." Dean nodded ominously in Ben's direction. "Need to watch your mouth. I told you that yesterday. I'm not gonna keep telling you. Do you cuss like that to your mom?"
Ben shrugged. "Sometimes."
"Jesus, Ben. That's your mom."
"What do you care? All she was to you was a roll in the hay. Just a little more than a one night stand."
Dean jumped up so fast that he almost upset his coffee. He reached over to Ben in one lighting quick move that seemed to catch the boy unawares and gabbed him roughly by the front of his t-shirt and gave him a quick jerk that pulled Ben to eye level.
"That's your mother you are talkin' about, boy." Dean rumbled.
Sam was there a second behind Dean. "Dean. Stand down."
Dean heard his own deep breathing. Saw the fear flash through Ben's eyes. Good, let him think about it.
But Ben was his father's son. "Dude, personal space." the boy ground out.
"Dean." He felt more than heard Sam and he knew Sam was right. But shit if that kid was gonna talk about Lisa that way.
"DEAN!" This time Sam was as forceful as John Winchester had ever been. Dean growled low and dropped the boy back to the floor.
"Fine. I'm heading to the barn." He spoke pointedly to Ben. "When you are finished breakfast, meet me there. We have a house to paint and some things to discuss."
He stomped to the barn and found himself restlessly pacing waiting for Ben to show up but instead the first footfalls he heard were Sam's.
"So, am I gonna hear bullshit from you too?" Dean queried.
"No, but c'mon, Dean. You gotta cut the kid some slack. This is his first real day with a father he never knew he had. He is five thousand miles from home living with a man he met once six years ago. Shit, anybody would be having a hard time with that."
Dean leaned up against one of the old stalls. When you put it that way, he was a piece of shit.
"Shit…I did it again didn't I?"
Sam offered a lopsided grin. "Sort of. But I have to admit, Ben kind of pushes my buttons too."
Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face. "M'fuckin' it up, Sammy."
"It's okay, Dean. I'll run some interference and send him down here to you. Have that talk you wanted to have. Spell it out to him, what is expected what he can expect and then try to start off fresh."
Dean nodded and scuffed the dirt floor of the barn with his boot and then waited for Sam to send Ben down.
Ben walked to the barn, fingering the cell phone in his hand. He should call his mom, tell her that Dean was an asshole and that he wanted to come home.
Really.
But Ben wasn't so damn stupid that he didn't know that he was an asshole too. Great, freckles and assholeness, Dean's genetic DNA just couldn't get any better.
He opened the barn door to see his father quietly leaning up against what looked like a horse stall.
Ben stopped just after walking through the door and leaned his own lanky frame up against the wall of the barn. He shoved the cell phone and his hands in his pockets and dropped his eyes for just a second. He tried to imagine it was the abrupt change from light to dark that caused him to avert his eyes. There was no way it was because his father looked kind of scary despite the casual posture.
"Thanks for coming down." Dean spoke quietly.
"I didn't think I had a choice."
"Yeah, about that, I, uh, we need to talk, Ben." Ben was shocked to hear the slow stammer in Dean's voice.
"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday, and this morning. I think we got off on the wrong foot." Dean spoke with a little more conviction. "I'm the dad here. I'm the grown-up so I need to act like one. Ben, this is all new to me and I know it is new to you so let's just agree to start over huh?"
Ben couldn't believe that Dean was making a peace offering. Couldn't believe the guy was backing down. Ben was sure this barn talk was going to go the way of a yelling match then ended with Ben stomping out and calling his mom. That kind of pissed Ben off, 'cause he didn't need his mom fighting his battles for him. He had decided that long before he ever met Dean Winchester.
"Okay."
"First, I'm glad you are here. It's a good thing. A surprise, yeah, but a good thing. "
Ben wasn't sure what to say about that so he said nothing.
"But we need to get some shit straight. Things you can expect from me and things I expect from you. We've got no history but six years ago and that makes it hard to for us to, uh,…connect." Ben watched Dean fumble with the word. He thought it was kind of funny, the great Dean Winchester finding it hard to talk but he managed not to laugh.
Dean must have caught the look on Ben's face because he offered a slow grin that morphed into a full-blown laugh. Deep and resonant, Ben wondered how often Dean really laughed like that.
"Yeah, it's kinda stupid huh? I sound like I just stepped off Dr. Phil." Dean's eyes danced merrily in the darkened light of the barn.
"Look kid, let me spell it out. We gotta work together to make this shit happen. Let me explain it the way I know it. We got a chain of command. Me? I'm the CO. There is no getting around that. You can hem and haw and throw yourself down on the ground like a four year old but that ain't gonna change. Sam? Well, he is second in command. He's bigger but I'm older. The oldest wins every time. And you are the grunt. That means you follow orders and do what you're told."
Ben bristled. Grunt my ass.
"Whoa there. No need to get your panties in a twist. It is what it is. You've got every right to ask why you need to do what I need you to do, and believe me that is a hell of a lot more than I got at your age. We can talk about it, hell, we can hold hands and chant if you want but in the end, what I say goes. Sam too. You are the kid. We're the adults. We make the rules."
"Now your grandfather would have drilled it in by making you yes, sir and no, sir him. That's up to you. My personal feeling on that is that sometimes, showing a little extra respect can save your ass in more ways than one. But unless you are being a total shit, I won't expect that from you."
Dean took a deep breath and seemed to consider the next part of his speech carefully.
"What you can expect from me? I promise I'll listen. Give you the opportunity to show me your side. I will do my best not to fly off the handle like yesterday and today. But you gotta know, in this family we believe in consequences for actions. I grew up that way and so did Sam. So if you fuck up, you are gonna hear about it. Sam and I spent a good amount of our teenage years running laps and doing push ups. You can expect that too. You piss me off and I could send you off on a two-mile run. Or you could find yourself working off the piss and vinegar by alternating sets of crunches and pushups. Trust me, PT works great as a deterrent to shitty behavior. "
Dean paused again.
"You can also expect to get your ass handed to you from time to time. The other day when I whacked you for slamming my girl and stomping off to Dallas? That could happen again. Or it could be a lot worse. I didn't like it too much when I was your age, but my father's methods of discipline worked pretty well. Sam and I survived it, and I imagine you will too. Don't worry, Ben. I'll never hurt you, but I was fourteen once, I know what it is like. Fortunately or unfortunately, I remember what worked for me. It will probably work on you too."
Dean took another deep breath. It was as if the speech was more than he was used to saying at any given time. "So, what do you think about it?
Ben didn't have to think twice. "I think it sucks, Dean. – I'm the grunt and you and your brother can boss me around and push me into doing whatever you want when ever you want, just 'cause you are bigger and stronger?"
Dean grinned, "Well, it does kinda seems that way, but it's more because we have been there and done that. We're the adults, Ben. We know what's best for you. Sometimes at your age, that's a hard thing to figure out. That's why kids need parents."
"Look, the point is, do what you're asked, don't lie, pay attention to things that we think are important, and be respectful to Sam and me and we will do the same to you. You follow those simple rules and we will never run into any problems."
Ben grunted. This did not look like it was going to be easy.
"Okay, first off we need to scrape and paint the house." Dean offered a scraper that was sitting next him on the floor.
Ben stubbornly refused to take it.
Dean cocked an eyebrow in Ben's direction. "Okay, tell me why you shouldn't help?"
"'Cause it isn't my house and I'm a guest here. Guests don't work." Ben nodded to himself. He figured he nailed that one.
"Well, you are living here, so it's kind of your house. When I die it will become your house and you aren't a guest. You are my son, so you can help scrape and paint." Dean handed the scraper to Ben and pounded him briskly on the back.
"C'mon kid, we got work to do."
XXX
Ben was in bed. Not asleep but at least in bed. He lay his head back on the pillow, laced his hands behind his head and tried to review his day.
Ben had to admit, working with Sam and Dean had not been as bad as he thought it would be. His shoulders were aching and sore from scraping the house and he was tired, but their constant banter was funny. He never had a brother, watching them goof off and fool around with each other was cool. They fooled around with him too. That was kind of fun because his mom was a girl and no matter how much she tried she just didn't see what was so funny about things he thought were funny as shit.
Sam and Dean got it. Was it a testosterone thing or a Winchester thing? He didn't know but no matter, he decided to chalk painting and scraping as not the worse thing in the world. The day's conversation had moved from movies – Dean liked Godzilla Vs Mothra to the obvious attributes of Angelina Jolie. There was even a rather heated discussion regarding the relative merits of handguns. Colt vs. Taurus, if Ben remembered correctly. All in all, it had been a pretty good day.
Well, except for finding a place to smoke. So here it was midnight and Ben needed his cig fix like nobodies business.
He climbed out of bed, grabbed his smokes and opened the window. He had not heard anything from downstairs for a while so he figured the coast was clear.
Ben scrambled out on the roof and settled in what he thought of as his customary spot. It was a little cooler tonight than last night, he figured it was the brief rainstorm that had swept in with typical Texas ferocity but had left almost as quick as it came.
The smoke felt good in his hands. He relaxed against the frame of the house, enjoying the cooler night air and thinking things looked a lot better than they had a few days ago. Ben finished his smoke, put it out and then turned to climb his way back into the window when suddenly his foot slipped on the recently rained on roof. He felt his body start the inevitable slide down the roof heading to the ground. Panic set in as Ben opened his arms and legs to increase the body surface tension in at attempt to stop his forward momentum. He managed to somehow stop the slide but found himself spread eagle, far lower on the roof than he had anticipated and hanging on by sheer will power.
Ben glanced under his arm to gauge how far down the ground was. He figured the fall would probably not kill him but it could certainly do some damage.
He tried to scoot himself up to the window, but there was no footholds and the old slate roof was as slippery as an eel. Well shit, this was not looking good.
From below him he heard a voice. Sam. Thank God for uncles.
"Ben!" Sam's voice was quiet and urgent. "Hold on."
A moment later a ladder clattered against the house and Sam had his hand up, palm to Ben's back. It felt reassuring to have Sam behind him. "Take it easy, Ben. The ladder is almost as slick as the roof."
Ben backed his way down the ladder with Sam just below him making sure he stepped on each rung. The hit the ground just seconds behind one another.
Once safely down, Sam pulled Ben into a crushing hug. "Dude, you almost gave me a heart attack." Ben felt like a little kid in the embrace of his gigantor uncle. "Sam. I need to breath." Ben coughed out loud but he didn't struggle away from the hug.
Sam pushed Ben an arms length away and then still holding onto his shirt spun him around and smacked his pajama clad bottom ass so hard the momentum caused Ben to skip forward. Ben yelped. Sam's hand was huge and hard. Another quick, painful smack and Ben was doing the dance that kids had done since the dawn of time when confronted with an angry adult trying to smack their butts. He tried to dodge but Sam was accurate and had lightning quick reflexes. No matter where Ben moved, Sam was there with another sharp crack. Six smacks in all and then Sam was pulling Ben unceremoniously toward the front door.
"Sam." Ben groaned as his uncle drug him toward the door. "Dude, what the fuck?"
Sam spun Ben around to face him. "Do not even go there, Ben. You reek like cigarettes and you were up on the roof. I told you no more smoking. You promised. You lied to me, so yeah, I am beyond pissed. "
Sam jerked Ben into the front door with a slam only to be met by Dean, standing in the living room with a confused look on his face.
"I'm gonna kill your son." Sam pushed Ben in the general vicinity of his brother, almost as if he did not trust himself to keep his hands on the boy.
Dean caught Ben and then shoved him quickly to the couch. "Okay, Sam. What's going on."
Sam crossed his arms, legs spread apart and scowled at the boy who sat uncomfortably on the couch.
"Why don't you tell him, Ben. Go ahead."
Dean turned to Ben expectantly. "I know there has to be a reason why you were wandering around the outside of the house in bare feet and pajamas at midnight. So spill. What's going on?"
Suddenly Ben felt furious at the whole situation. His ass was sore and he was wet from sliding down the roof. His uncle had just smacked him with his fucking bear sized mitts and now his father was giving him the third degree in the middle of the night.
He stood up from the couch with far more intensity than he thought he had in him.
"I'll tell you what's going on. Your lunatic brother has got anger issues that probably need addressing with a fucking psychologist. "
Ben watched as Dean sniffed and took a deep breath. "Watch your mouth Ben. I have had it with the language. This is the last time I'm mentioning it. Now tell me what happened."
Ben felt a tiny stab of remorse, he had promised Sam. "Look Dean, I didn't quit smoking okay? I know you told me to but I like smoking. It relaxes me. Sam caught me the other day and I promised I would quit but I didn't. I was smoking on the roof and slipped. That's all, it was no big deal and I really don't owe you or" Ben looked pointedly at Sam, "or your nutcase brother an explanation."
"On the roof? You were smoking on the roof? That roof is slate and slippery and how damn dumb is that?"
Dean turned to his brother. "When were you going to tell me about his smokin' Sam? This whole thing could have been avoided, if you would have told me this when it happened."
Sam looked uncomfortable and dropped his head. "Sorry, Dean. I was just trying to cut him some slack. I should have told you but cancer boy there told me he would quit. I believed the little shit and now…" Sam gestured toward Ben. "Now, he pulls this and I just I think I need to kick his ass." Sam added a step in Ben's direction with a determined look on his face.
"Wait. Wait a minute." Ben was indignant and a little worried. He had already received an impromptu spanking by Sasquatch and he didn't want any more of that action. "What is this "kick his ass", shit. You already mauled me outside with your fu…freaking bear paws, how about you just let Dean and me handle this huh?"
"Great. You and Dean handle it. If you think your father will go easier on you than I would, you are seriously mistaken. But hey, Ben if it floats your boat." Sam scowled and headed up the steps.
"M'going to bed. Let me know how this all works out."
Ben smirked with satisfaction as his uncle left the room. He could hear him mumbling to himself about nephews and teenage boys. The smirk quickly left when he noticed his father's expression.
"You know Sam was right, Ben. I doubt seriously you are going to like how I handle this but I promised to listen, so lets here your side of the story. Give me an explanation as to what happened." Dean spoke calmly but his eyes still glinted dangerously.
Ben was beginning to wonder if he should have taken his chances with Sam, but he was not planning on backing down to Dean. If he did not take a stand now, his summer was going to be fucked. He would be forever under the thumb of Dean and his dictatorial ways.
"I told you what happened and I really don't owe you an explanation. It is what it is. I smoked. I still smoke and I am going to continue to smoke. I have to agree that the roof thing was stupid, but that was only because I was trying to sneak something that I don't plan on sneaking anymore. Look Dean, some of your rules are okay but this one, it just ain't happening, so you need to cool your jets on it."
There he said it. The line had been drawn and Ben felt great about his stand. He was not going to allow himself to be pushed around by Dean Winchester.
"Sorry, pal. That is not the right explanation." Before Ben could register what happened, Dean grabbed him quickly upended him over his knee. How Dean did it, Ben would never be able to figure out. One minute Ben was drawing that line in the sand and the next he was face down over his father's lap.
Dean was pulling down Ben's pajama bottoms and laying a scorching swath of strokes over his boxer shorts. Ben's ass was already sore from Sam's little foray into corporal punishment so it did not take very long for Dean's hand to make a significant impact on Ben.
"Dean, what the fuck?" Ben sputtered and gasped as Dean continued to spank first one cheek than another, occasionally dropping to the top of his thighs and the under curve of his ass. When Dean's hand met Ben's thighs there was not even the protection of the boxer's. Ben was sure there were Dean shaped handprints on the tops of his thighs.
"Not a smart move, Ben. I told you. No more chances with language. You just bought yourself another ten licks."
Ben whimpered. "Look, Dean I'm sorry. It's a habit." God, Ben hated how whiny he sounded.
Dean stopped for a second. "The cussin' or the smokin'? Either way you need to stop." He continued on with hard, sharp smacks on Ben's ass. The sound was sharp and staccato; a rapid fire flurry of smacks.
"C'mon, Dean. Enough is enough." Ben tried to push himself off of Dean's lap but his father held him easily.
"Not hardly."
It went on far too long from Ben's perspective. The sting was sharper than he expected and his ass felt like it was on fire. He choked back a sob. "Dad…"
Dean did stop then. "Sorry, Ben. I don't want to have to do this again. This is called "setting a precedent." I learned that one from your uncle." He picked up the pace and strength and that was all she wrote.
Ben cried and allowed himself to slump bonelessly over Dean's lap. He wasn't getting up, he wasn't getting away and there was nothing he could do but wait for the spanking to end.
That and cry.
"Ten more for language, Ben." Ben groaned. It felt like an eternity, those last ten smacks. Ben was sure his ass was on fire.
Dean stilled his hand and moved it from Ben's ass to his back. Heavy and warm it felt wonderful to have it off his burning ass. But Ben kept crying anyway. Every area of his butt burned. He figured his face was probably as red as his ass. It was embarrassing and humiliating and damn, why just didn't he listen to Dean in the first place.
Dean let him cry, seemed completely oblivious to the fact there was a half grown boy over his lap. He reached under and around and down Ben and pulled up his pajama bottoms.
Dean hoisted Ben up and off and gave him some time to adjust his pajama bottoms better. Ben just stood in the living room of the farmhouse, shoulders shaking with hot tears.
Suddenly Ben felt Dean grab him again and for a moment he thought he was headed back to Dean's lap but instead Dean pulled Ben into a hug. Ben fought for a moment, tense and straight backed against the weight and pull of his father but then it didn't matter anymore. He allowed Dean's strong arms to hold him and he buried his head into his father's chest.
"Shhhh, Ben. It's alright." Quiet and soft, far softer than anything he had heard come out of Dean's mouth since he met him. And that just made Ben cry more. Dean just let him cry until there was no more cry in him. He stayed there in his father's arms for a few more moments and then pushed himself away. Head low and unable to reach Dean's eyes he turned toward the steps.
Dean pulled him back before he got a half a step away. "C'mon, Buddy. Hang with me a minute."
Ben wasn't sure if Dean was asking or telling but right now he did not want to take a chance and fire the old man up again so he stopped at the gentle tug.
"What?" He wasn't angry anymore. Just tired and sore and he wanted to go to bed.
"I'm sorry that had to happen, Ben. I really am."
"Me too, really sorry. My ass is sorry." Ben looked quickly at Dean. "Is ass one of those cuss words you want me to stop? Shit, I'm sorry . Not again…" Ben fumbled with his words dropped his head to the ground.
Dean smiled. "Nah, ass is okay. It's the big guns that I am more concerned about. That and the disrespect behind the words. I'm sure you'll figure it out."
Ben nodded. He sure hoped so.
"You have to realize that I didn't want to spank you but you put me in the position where I had to. You need to understand that this is non-negotiable. You're not going to smoke again. Not on the roof. Not behind the barn. Not when you go back home. Not ten years from now. You're not picking up another cigarette. I don't care how you think I'm infringing on your rights or that I'm being a bully or whatever. It stops right now. I know it'll be tough, I smoked once for a while too, but it doesn't matter how tough it is, you're quitting. And when you feel the urge to sneak a smoke just remember that I will find out and the ass beating you got now will be nothing compared to what will happen if I catch you again." Dean took a deep breath.
Ben nodded again. "I don't get it though, why do you care so much about what I do. Why does it matter to you? " He truthfully did not understand this man. His father.
"Ben, it mattered even before I knew you were my kid. If your mom had called me and told me that you needed help, I would have helped you no matter what. But now? Well now you are much more than a kid I know, you are my kid. I can't let you make stupid decisions. I mean, smoking, Dude…that is so damn bad. It can kill you." Dean stopped the lecture.
"So you smoked before too." There was just a hint of petulance in Ben's voice. "Like father like son."
"Yeah, but all that proves is that when I was a kid, I made some dumb mistakes too. Besides your uncle ratted me out to your grandfather and he walloped the shit out of me. So I guess like father like son means a little more than our propensity for nicotine."
Ben smiled for the first time since the whole exchange.
"What? What's so funny?"
"I dunno, Dean. Just the thought of you getting your ass handed to you by your father. Now that is something I would like to have seen."
"No. No you wouldn't have. It was messy and there was a lot of yelling on my part. Plus my dad thought nothing about bringing out his belt and striping my bare ass with it if he felt it was important enough. It turns out that me sneaking cigarettes for two months and lying to him about it was a belt worthy beat down. So, no. It was not good and it was not pretty. But I haven't smoked a cigarette since then so it obviously worked."
"Well…" Ben sniffed, ran his edge of his thumb under his nose. "this was not pretty. It hurt like hel – heck." He turned pleading eyes to Dean "Awwe, c'mon Dean this not cursing crap is gonna kill me."
"Consider it a work in progress, Ben. " Dean smiled.
"Hey. Ben" Dean sought his son's eyes from the short expanse between them. "In the middle of things, did you call me Dad?
"I dunno, maybe. But you can't hold that against me, I woulda called you the Queen of England if you would stopped whackin' me."
"You did. You called me Dad." There was a slight teasing quality to Dean's voice but it did not quite reach his eyes.
"Well, yeah, I think so. I think I did. You upset?"
"Nah, I kinda liked it. I mean if you want to, you can you know. I mean, I am okay with that. Being your dad and all."
"Okay, Dad." It didn't roll off Ben's lips as easy as it could have but it didn't catch in his throat either. Ben cocked his head in Dean's direction. "We done here? You know, with all the girly stuff. Can I go to bed? It's like one am and I am a growing boy, I need my sleep."
"Yeah, sure, kid. G'night." Ben walked slowly up the steps and headed to his room. His uncle was standing at his own room in the door jam as Ben walked passed.
"You okay?" Sam questioned.
Ben thought it should be uncomfortable knowing that Sam had just heard him get his ass beat, but for some reason it wasn't.
"Yeah, I'm just glad I sleep on my belly."
Sam grinned in the darkened light of the hallway. "Yeah, that helps. Goodnight kiddo."
"Night Sam."
XXX
Dean listened to the brief murmur of voices at the top of the steps. A moment later Sam walked down the steps and met Dean at the bottom.
"Thanks for finding him, Sam."
"Shit, Dean. You don't thank me for taking care of my nephew. Should I just have left him up on the roof and let him fall off?"
"Well, right now, he is probably wishing you had let him fall off. It would probably have been less painful."
Sam chuckled a little. "Probably."
"Hey, buy you a beer." Sam added as he walked to the fridge pulling out a couple of long necks. He twisted off both caps and handed one to his brother.
Dean grinned. "Now, that's what I'm talking about."
They walked outside to the front porch. There were a couple of mismatched lawn chairs that served as seating so each Winchester found his and settled down. Dean looked out over the darkened expanse of what passed for the front lawn and lifted the beer bottle to his mouth. It was still a little hot outside but the beer was cold. That made all the difference.
Sam broke the silence. "So, Dean. How did it go?"
"Not too bad. Well, maybe a little bad for Ben. But you know…"
Sam snorted softly in obvious understanding. His little brother tipped back in his battered lawn chair, rocking it on two legs. The chair protested mightily against Sam's huge frame.
"Dean, I'm sorry about not telling you that I caught him smoking. I thought at the time that maybe I was doing it for him, you know, giving him a break, but if I think about it I was doing it for me."
Dean arched an eyebrow and Sam's choice of words.
"Yeah, I know it sounds a little crazy, but I didn't want to be the bad guy. Remember when I narced on you and told Dad about you smoking. I always felt a little shitty about that."
"Yeah, well I deserved the what for I got, although at the time I wouldna said that. Dad was always hard as nails about things but he was pretty fair too." Dean mused softly. "I hope to hell I can be like that with Ben. You know that tough but fair shit. That's a hard line to walk."
Dad had been a good man. A good father. Some may have thought differently but Dean knew better.
"You'll be alright, Dean. You are a natural. I know you don't have Dad around, but you have me and we'll do right by Ben."
"Yeah, it just might take a little work, you know."
Sam nodded his head in agreement "The kid's a Winchester. We got hard heads and a stubborn streak a mile wide."
Dean grinned in the moonlight.
"Speak for yourself. I don't have a stubborn bone in my body and you're the one with the hard head."
"Call Bobby. He'll have a word to say about stubborn, hard headed Winchesters."
Dean laughed out loud, picturing Bobby reaming him out at 0130 in the morning.
"Nah, I think I'll pass. Besides, we need to hit the rack. We got a house to paint and a kid to father."
He slapped Sam resoundingly on the back as they both headed inside. He might be the new dad of a
fourteen-year-old kid, but he had his father as a role model.
John Winchester had been difficult, cantankerous and an asshole at times, but that didn't negate how much he had loved his boys.
Dean figured if he took that page out of the Winchester handbook on raising sons, at least he had a pretty good blueprint to go on.
End