Supernatural Fic: Bedtime Blues

Title: Bedtime Blues
Author: Brassband777
Characters: Sam (6 yrs), Dean (10 yrs), John
Scenario: wee!chesters

Summary: Sam doesn't go to bed when he is supposed to.
Author's Notes/Warnings: Parental spanking of a child. Please do not read if this offends.

"Dean, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Ten-year-old Dean Winchester looked up from the model airplane he was making. "Sure, Dad."

"Not here," replied John Winchester with a nod in the direction of his youngest child. Sam was busy building something out of Lego, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated.

Dean knew immediately what that meant – his Dad wanted to talk about something hunt related. Both he and his Dad were in complete agreement about keeping Sammy in the dark about the existence of the supernatural. They wanted to protect him for as long as possible.

Dean followed his father down the hall and into his bedroom. The apartment that they were renting at the moment was very basic, but at least it was clean. John seated himself on the bed and patted the space next to him, indicating for Dean to sit down.

"What's up, Dad?" asked Dean, "Is it about your next hunt? You said it was a ghoul?"

John stared at the open, upturned freckled face of his eldest. It still pained him that the boy could speak so openly of hunting. How he wished he'd had the presence of mind to hide the truth from the child in the immediate aftermath of Mary's death. But he'd been utterly broken and not thinking straight. Thank God he hadn't made the same mistake with his youngest, having come to his senses by the time that Sam was old enough to be able to understand.

"Yeah, Dean, but I just got a call from Pastor Jim and I need to set off earlier than we planned, so I'm gonna set off this afternoon and won't be back until late tomorrow afternoon. So I'm trusting you to hold down the fort, okay Ace?"

"You're trusting me?" the hesitant whisper almost broke John's heart. He wasn't expecting that response, but the understanding of why his young son might possibly think that he didn't trust him, came crashing down on him like a ton of bricks.

John had mentally kicked himself for dealing with the shtriga incident the way that he had almost immediately after he had calmed down. He had known by Dean's broken expression at the time that the boy had blamed himself, but he had been so angry and worried about the health of his youngest that instead of reassuring Dean like he should, he had lashed out and accused him of not following orders, thereby effectively reinforcing the idea in the impressionable young brain that it was his fault. When he had returned to Pastor Jim's to pick his children up after losing the trail of the shtriga, John had wanted to apologise to his eldest and make sure that he was okay, but the right time had just never presented itself and Dean never spoke of the incident again either.

Now, John put an arm around Dean's shoulders and pulled him close. "'Course I trust you, Dean, you're my little soldier."

Dean leaned against his father, soaking up the comfort his warm presence provided, hope flaring in his heart. His Dad was giving him another chance!

"I won't let you down, Dad. I swear!"

"I know you won't, Ace." John dropped a kiss on the top of Dean's head before standing. "We'd better get back to your brother before he gets up to some mischief!"

That afternoon, Dean listened carefully to his Dad's instructions, taking meticulous note of each one, even though the majority were already second nature to him. He had promised himself after the shtriga incident that he would never disobey an order again, as it had been disregarding orders that had nearly gotten his baby brother killed.

Dean couldn't help but cringe when his dad delivered the instruction that they were not to leave the apartment under any circumstances. He hadn't been supposed to leave that motel room either, but he had gotten bored and the allure of the video games in the foyer had been strong. If he had only obeyed his father then, to stay put, the shtriga would never have gotten to Sam.

It had been over eight months ago that the shtriga had attacked and since that night, John had never left the boys alone overnight again. Dean had put two and two together and realised that his Dad didn't trust him to look after his baby brother anymore. Dean didn't blame him.

Now that his Dad was finally giving him a second chance, he was determined not to screw it up. He would not fail his father again!

"You can count on me, sir," Dean assured, as his father pulled him in for a quick hug.

"I know I can, Ace," John replied before turning to his youngest. "And what are your instructions, Sammy?"

"To be good and do what Dean tells me."

John gathered his youngest in for a hug, before exiting the apartment with a final wave.

The afternoon and evening passed without a hitch until eight o'clock.

"Okay, Sammy it's bedtime."

Sam pouted across at his brother. "Can I finish my jigsaw first?"

"Sorry, Sammy, you know Dad's very strict about bedtimes. You can finish it tomorrow."

Sam folded his arms across his chest. "Don't wanna."

Dean sighed. His little brother could be so stubborn! "I tell you what, I'll read you two stories in bed instead of one. How's that?" Bribery is worth a try thought Dean.

Sam's lower lip protruded even further. "No."

Realising that Sam was determined to get his own way, Dean tried a different tack and mimicked his father's authoritative tone to perfection. "Get your backside to bed this instant, Samuel Winchester!"

Sam shook his head and deliberately picked up another piece of jigsaw. "No! And you can't make me."

"I'll tell Dad when he gets back," threatened Dean, having no intention of doing so, but expecting the kid to comply.

Sam however called his bluff. "No you won't."

"Yeah, I will."

"Won't."

"Will."

This time, Sam didn't even bother to reply and concentrated instead on his jigsaw. Dean was at a total loss of what to do. He knew without a doubt that his Dad would expect to be informed of Sam's blatant misbehaviour, but if he did that, the kid would be in serious trouble. He was utterly torn – he couldn't risk losing his father's trust again, but if he ratted on Sam, his brother would hate him and never forgive him. Another thought struck Dean – what if Sam decided to be naughty every time their father went away?

Eventually, Dean got Sam into bed at half past eleven. Not because the kid had gone willingly, but because he had fallen asleep on the floor, as after finishing his jigsaw, he had insisted on watching TV and then playing with his toys. Dean had carried the sleeping six-year-old to bed and tucked him in.

The next day, when their father arrived home, Dean was still totally undecided about what to do. He hung back and waited as Sam exuberantly ran and hugged their Dad.

"Hey, Dean," greeted John with a warm smile after hugging and kissing the baby of the family, "Everything okay here while I was on my business trip?"

Dean didn't answer for a moment and that hesitation was all that John needed, to know that something had happened in his absence. He immediately scrutinized his boys intently, relieved that they seemed unharmed.

John led the way into the living room and indicated for Dean to sit down. He then deliberately changed his tone and question, making it an order. "Report, Dean!"

Dean felt awful, but there was no way he was going to disobey a direct order ever again. Reluctantly, deliberately not looking at his baby brother, he recounted Sam's misbehaviour from the evening before.

When he had finished, Dean risked a glance at his younger sibling, who was standing in the doorway.

Sam was glaring at him. "I hate you, Dean!"

John ignored his youngest's outburst for the moment and put a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder. "You did good, kid. I'm proud of you. And you were right to tell me about Sam being naughty."

Dean felt warmed by his father's praise, but at the same time, he felt like he had betrayed his brother and Sam's angry words had cut him to the core.

John stood up and pulled Sam back over to the sofa to stand between his knees. Sam was staring at his feet and wouldn't look up. John placed his fingers under his chin and tilted his youngest's head up.

"What have you to say for yourself, Sammy?"

"Dean's a meanie," muttered Sam, his lower lip trembling slightly.

John wanted to laugh at the picture this presented – with his arms folded across his chest and his lower lip protruding, Sam looked exactly like a sulky two-year-old. However, he knew that he needed to keep up the façade of sternness. There was more to this than simply disregarding his bedtime curfew, Sam had disobeyed Dean's orders. In order to keep them both safe when he was off on a hunt, it was essential that Sam listen to and follow his big brother's instructions immediately and without question.

Resigned to what he must do, but hating it as always, John picked up the six-year-old and flipped him over his lap.

"Noooo, Daddy, no spanking," the small boy pleaded, immediately beginning to squirm.

John had no difficulty keeping the child in place by looping his left arm around the small waist. He then hesitated a moment before pulling down the boy's pants and underwear. He had never spanked Sam on the bare before. John had told both his boys that he would reserve that for only very serious offenses, but he had to ensure that in future his youngest would follow orders when given by the second-in-command, namely Dean.

Having his pants pulled down had already had an impact on his youngest without him having delivered a single swat. Sam seemed in shock and was now lying perfectly still. A moment later he found his voice. "Please, Daddy, no, it's not fair…"

"I will tell you what's not fair, Sam," interrupted John sternly, "upsetting your brother by not listening to him and upsetting me by breaking house rules. Now you're getting a spanking for breaking bedtime curfew, but you're getting it on your bare bottom, because when I'm not here, Dean's in charge and you didn't listen to him."

"But what if he asks me to do something that's not right?" whimpered Sam, trying to put off the inevitable.

"Then you tell me about it when I get back and I'll deal with Dean if I consider it necessary. But Dean asking you to go to bed definitely wasn't unreasonable."

As he finished talking, John raised his hand and delivered the first slap. The sound was loud in the small apartment and he felt the child across his lap physically jump. John suspected the increased volume of skin connecting with skin would have a memorable impact on his youngest besides the stinging pain it inflicted.

John began spanking in earnest, ensuring he covered every part of the little bottom in front of him, which wasn't hard, because his large hand covered a considerable amount of it with each spank.

Sam had begun to squirm again, his little legs kicking a little each time his father's hand connected.

"Oww! Daddy, I'm sorry…..please stop…Oww!...I won't do it again."

Sam's bottom was now pink all over, but John hardened his heart to the boy's pleas, wanting this to be a lesson that he only needed to teach once and continued spanking.

In the armchair, Dean couldn't fight the tears anymore and they spilled down his cheeks. He was facing the wall, unable to bear watching his brother being punished. Dean had been taken aback when he realised that Sam was going to be spanked on the bare. He himself had only been spanked on the bare once before – 6 months ago when his dad had caught him and some friends playing with some matches – and it was not an experience he ever wanted to repeat! On the one level, he knew his brother deserved it for misbehaving, but the fact that he had told over the kid made him feel directly responsible for the pain he was receiving. Sam would never forgive him, and he couldn't blame the kid.

Sam's bottom was now light red all over and the six-year-old was sobbing uncontrollably. John decided it was time to finish up the spanking. He administered three stinging swats to the top of each thigh, an area that he had previously left untouched, before pausing.

"Sammy, why did I have to spank you?"

"'C-c-cause I didn't g-go to b-bed."

"And?" queried John.

"I didn't d-do what D-d-dean told me," sniffled a very forlorn Sam.

"What are you going to do next time?"

"Do as I'm t-t-told."

"Good, I think you've just about learned your lesson."

"P-please, no m-more," sobbed Sam, knowing that during a spanking, his dad saved the hardest few swats for last.

"Sorry, son, but this hurts me just as much as it hurts you, although I know you probably don't believe me." With that, John applied a final five sharp, stinging swats directly to Sam's sensitive undercurve.

He pulled the boy's underwear and pants up as gently as possible over the reddened skin and gathered the snivelling, snotty six-year-old into his arms.

Sam buried his head into his Dad's shoulder and continued to cry steadily, feeling very sorry for himself. John rubbed gentle, soothing circles on his back allowing the small boy to cry himself out.

Over the top of his youngest's head, John contemplated his eldest worriedly. Dean was seated facing the wall, but in the time that he had been cuddling his youngest, he had seen Dean draw his sleeve across his eyes twice. John knew without a doubt that the boy was crying. He also realised exactly why Dean would be upset and knew that he needed to find a way to alleviate his eldest's guilt. Trying to physically comfort the ten-year-old was out of the question, as he would be mortified that he hadn't managed to hide his tears from his father, besides which, at that exact moment John had his hands full with Sam. Sam always needed to be held and comforted after a spanking.

By the time Sam's sobs had eventually quietened to mere sniffles, it was obvious to John that Dean had also managed to get a handle on himself. The older boy had turned away from the wall and had his game face on, pretending that everything was fine. John wanted to make sure that Dean completely understood that Sam getting spanked was not his fault.

With that in mind, John lifted the sniffling six-year-old from his shoulder and sat him in his lap, so that he could talk to him. Sam winced as his very sore bottom connected with his Dad's lap and John was quick to reposition him so that his tender rear hung between his knees.

"You okay now, Sammy?" asked John gently, still cuddling the six-year-old to his chest in his new position. "You know Daddy loves you, right?"

"Yeah, Daddy, I know. I love you too. I just wish you didn't spank so hard, 'cause it really hurts."

John chuckled. "That's kinda the idea, Tiger, so that you won't do it again." John glanced surreptitiously at Dean before asking his next question. "And whose fault is it you got spanked?"

John held his breath, awaiting Sam's answer. Before a spanking, the kid would say literally anything to try and get out of it, but afterwards he was usually willing to take responsibility.

"Mine, Daddy," muttered Sam, wiping his snotty nose on his sleeve. "I shoulda listened to Dean."

John handed his youngest a tissue without comment, risking a quick glance at Dean. His eldest was leaning forward slightly, evidently listening to their conversation as John had hoped. "And did you deserve the spanking?"

Sam nodded. "Uh-huh, I suppose I did. I didn't like it though! I'm really really sorry, Daddy."

"I know you are, Tiger." John dropped a kiss on Sam's forehead, "But I'm not the only one you should be apologising to," he said, nodding towards Dean. John stood up and hefted Sam onto his hip, like he used to when Sam was a toddler and carried him towards the chair where Dean was sitting. Sam was always clingy after a spanking and John knew that the child wouldn't want to be put down.

Dean watched his father and brother approach. The relief that his baby brother didn't blame him for the spanking was overwhelming, though he fully expected Sam to still be mad at him for him telling on him in the first place. He hated it when Sam was upset with him. Dean didn't think it was necessary that Sam apologise to him either, but their father evidently did.

John halted in front of the armchair and could still see some trepidation in his eldest's eyes, which completely vanished a moment later when Sam reached out his arms to Dean, wordlessly asking his brother to take him. Dean was on his feet in a second. Sam wanted to come to him! He quickly gathered Sam into his arms and the younger boy wrapped his arms around his neck.

"I'm really sorry for not listening to you, Dean."

"That's okay, kiddo. We're good, okay?"

Sam nodded against his shoulder and Dean sat down again. This time with Sam in his lap, mindful of his sore bottom, he made sure it was hanging over the edge of his thigh.

An hour later, John looked up from the television.

"You okay, Ace?" he asked.

Dean looked down at Sam who was fast asleep in his arms. His Dad trusted him again and his baby brother still loved him even after he'd told on him!

"Yeah, I'm great, Dad," he grinned.