"Ads?" Sam's voice interrupted Adam's thoughts of fratricide. A polite rap at the door followed it and Adam couldn't keep the warm flush of skin rising up his neck.
"Go away." He meant it, he really did.
"Hungry?" Sam asked through the closed door. Not locked. Locked would never work in their household.
Winchester 101.
"No." Which was a lie. Adam was always hungry. He supposed he was lucky to have a family that didn't believe that going to bed hungry when you were punished was an appropriate extra measure to drive home poor behavior. Poor behavior when your name was Winchester often resulted in a spanked ass but seldom did anyone starve you.
Winchester – he was still pretty new to the name but it rolled off his tongue now with practiced ease.
Adam loved being a Winchester.
Or so he thought.
Lately though he'd been going through a rough patch.
Between, Dean, Dad and hell even Sam, he'd gotten his butt roasted far too times in the two weeks. Adam was pretty sure he'd surpassed his own personal record; in fact, he thought he'd probably out done a familial record as well.
It was record he didn't want to be associated with Adam grumbled to himself. After the last "what for"…this one from his middle brother, Adam had gone from somewhat pissed to atomically rocking the anger scale. Some of it was because the spanking had come from Sam. That was a bitch. Sam didn't agree with corporal punishment and for Adam to receive a swath of blistering handprints on his ass from his middle brother had been the last straw.
To think that it was the last straw for Sam hadn't crossed his mind. Which is why he didn't care that Sam was standing outside of his door trying to lure him out with what smelled like roasted chicken. Adam took a deep breath and the warm, savory smell of chicken wafted up into his room. There was lemon, he thought, and maybe thyme.
It smelled delicious.
Adam firmly shut down his nose to stomach connection. He would not be coaxed out of his room like a beaten dog with a bone.
If the shoe fit.
It wasn't like Adam didn't know how Sam felt about school, that was certainly not a new variable in the corporal punishment equation but he hadn't expected Sam to go postal over a few missed tests. Quizzes really. But Sam had, and now for the second time this week-the fifth time in two weeks- Adam had gotten his ass beat. And it was Sam – Sam who always looked out for him. Sam, who stood up for him. Sam, who was his big brother but also his friend. It made Adam angry and miserable in equal measure.
"Go away." Adam announced firmly one more time. There was a soft murmur from the other side of the door but Sam complied. Adam could hear his older brother step away from the door and then heard the telltale sound of his footsteps as he walked down the steps.
Good, Adam thought, maybe Sam would trip down the steps. Unfortunately by the rhythmic receding sound of his footsteps on the hard wood, his brother seemed quite capable of navigating the twelve short steps to the bottom without incident.
Incident, thought Adam. It was a pretty innocuous word but it held quite a bit of meaning. Especially for him. He'd had far too many damn "incidents" lately under the guise of discipline.
Adam tallied the ass warmings up in his head.
Back chat to Dad. Never good and it resulted in a head cuff that was followed by an impromptu spanking in the kitchen. In his father's defense, the head slap should have been enough but apparently the slap couldn't stop Adam's mouth from running - hence the spanking. Go figure.
Lying to Dean – over something really stupid – did Adam or did Adam not detail the Impala? Of course Dean would figure that one out! Adam had been really pissed though because he had washed her but hadn't done it to Dean's specifications. When Dean said "detail" he meant detail! Adam hadn't expected the bare assed whipping with a switch of all things. When he'd asked Dean why in the hell he thought that whipping him in the back yard with a switch seemed like a good idea, Dean had said he didn't think a garden hose was an appropriate implement for spanking.
Dad again, for no real reason Adam could see. Adam thought it might just be that his father was pissed and tired. Pissed and tired in John Winchester frame of reference, meant that any patience he may have had, which was sorely lacking in the first place, was gone. Adam wasn't really sure what he said or why he said it but Dad had rounded on him like a wounded grizzly grabbing him by the collar and swatted him through the living room, mumbling something about, stupid teenage boys. Adam was going to try to revisit that one. When his father was in a better mood maybe he would try to have it expunged. Then again, the spanking was over and whatever the reason it had been implemented, instigating another discussion about it might result in more ass smackings.
Dean again, this time for tracking muddy boot prints all over the house. Adam had laughed at that one though, because Dean was trying to beat his ass while yelling at him as he was making him re-wash the floor. Ass beating and floor washing just don't belong together. Truthfully, that had only been a few swats but Adam was already sore from 1, 2 and 3.
Finally, Sam and the damn tests. He didn't expect the teacher to call regarding his plummeting English grade. Nor did he expect Sam to receive the call. He'd walked in the house with his ass still sore from the floor washing spanking (he carefully took off his boots at the front door) when Sam had grabbed him, dumped him over his lap in the living room and started wailing on him. Sam, the good brother, Sam who was 16 and cool and smart. Sam who didn't believe in corporal punishment! Through the entire spanking he ranted about Adam learning English and how he would be damned if his own brother wouldn't be able to read and write his own fucking language. And if he'd had it his way, not only would Adam do the skipped tests, he would do them in fucking Latin. Teach him not to take his English seriously. In fact, Sam decided he would make Adam do that. He would apologize to his teacher for missing the tests, do them, then bring them home, translate them and answer them in Latin! At the time, Adam hadn't been aware of how bizarre Sam's insistence on Adam's English skills evolved into a Latin lesson. A boy tended not to think clearly while over the lap of any Winchester, but his lanky gargantuan brother added another dimension to an ass whipping. Bony knees and the added height made an uncomfortable situation worse.
No doubt it was Sam's spanking that sent him over the edge. Adam sat in his room post butt warming fuming. Yeah, his ass hurt but that was just an afterthought. All Adam could think of was how he had been spanked five fucking times by his family…five! He looked at the letter his English teacher has sent home. It was still sealed and sitting on his desk, but Adam was pretty sure he knew what it contained. Sam had just gotten the damn phone call; his father would be privy to the letter. It was addressed to John Winchester and both Adam and Sam were smart enough not to read their dad's personal mail.
Well, revise that. Adam figured he was usually a pretty smart kid. He did the math in his head, realized that his father would be home within the next two days and he was not looking forward to spanking number six. Reluctantly, he realized it was not just that. He was tired of getting spanked by everyone. If he had just been his dad, well, he wouldn't have liked it but he could have dealt with it. But it wasn't just Dad it was Dean and Sam; hell even Bobby had taken a spoon to him once.
So far the only person who hadn't hit him was Pastor Jim and Adam decided that was just because it wasn't in the man's nature no matter how long he was part of the Winchesters extended family.
Extended family of course, meant Pastor Jim and Uncle Bobby were honorary Winchesters. His father chose to keep them in the inner sanctum. Uncle Bobby and Pastor Jim chose to be there. There was no choice for Adam. He was pulled into the Winchester family kicking and screaming. The truth was? Maybe they never really liked him at all.
Adam curled himself under his blankets and ran the heel of his hand up his nose. Gross. He whimpered once as his tender ass skimmed the bed's surface but then stopped abruptly. He was not a pussy. He was a Winchester.
Or was he?
He turned his attention again to his relatively new family. They'd taken him in readily enough; John Winchester was nothing if not responsible. He wouldn't leave Adam alone and unprotected after his mom had been killed, but it didn't mean that he had to enjoy the extra responsibility of a third child. Especially if said child just didn't seem to be able to stay out of trouble. And lately Adam's middle name had been trouble.
His family would feel really bad if he was gone though. He was pretty sure of that. His older brothers, when they weren't beating on him, seemed to enjoy hanging out with him. Adam snorted to himself, normally they didn't beat on him by spanking on him though, normally they just pummeled him. Pummeling in boy speak was the equivalent of you're okay and I kind of like you.
Or it was it?
All the Winchester boys tended to have occasional pissing contests and or shoving matches and talked a lot of trash with each other. Even though he'd only known Sam and Dean for about a year the way they treated him felt brotherly to him. But then again, what did he know of brothers before he met the Winchesters? Maybe what he thought of as brotherly tormenting was in actuality, Sam and Dean showing their true colors? Maybe they wouldn't care if he left at all? Maybe being gone and letting them do their own Winchester thing was better all the way around? Adam wouldn't be nursing a busted ass all the time and the rest of the family could get on with their lives.
There was a small ache in his heart that nudged at him. It was a dark thing, insidious in the way it worried at him. Like a Black Dog with human bone. It gnawed at him and his stomach turned and tightened at the thoughts that he just couldn't get out of his mind. Did his family really hate him? Adam reached around to touch his still warm ass, it sure felt like that sometimes.
It was then that he decided what he was going to do
He rolled off the bed, stood and brushed his hands down his jeans with a sense of purpose that he really wasn't sure he felt.
It made the most sense really.
Dean and Sam had been hunting for years and even though Sam didn't like it as much as Dean did, Adam didn't doubt that Sam would be a great hunter too, just like their Dad. Having Adam around was just dragging them all down. Case in point was this particular crash and burn. Dean and Dad were hunting some gremlins two states over. Sam was stuck at home watching Adam. Watching Adam get in trouble! Wouldn't it be safer on a hunt if all the Winchesters were there? Well, all except Adam who was kind of worthless anyway. Besides, he wasn't really a Winchester was he? What if Dean or Dad got hurt because Sam wasn't there to watch their backs? Adam was honest enough to admit to himself that part of the way he was feeling was due well-spanked ass but not all of it.
It didn't matter though because once Adam made up his mind, he made up his mind. There were a lot of things that he wasn't sure about when it came to being a Winchester but if stubborn was hereditary than he certainly got that particular chromosome and then some.
Adam thought it through the rest of the afternoon and since he was grounded by Sam as well as getting a licking, simply thinking about stuff wasn't really a choice. Sam was the worse when it came to grounding. He wouldn't even let you use the computer. Books were the only things permissible in the amusement category. Winchesters didn't understand recreational reading, the selection of reading material was pretty limited and included hunt related tomes or "classics". It crossed Adam's mind to sneak into Dean's room and relieve his oldest brother of his stash of porn, (porn was not an offical acceptable reading outlet but it was mostly pictures anyway,) besides with three men in the house it was just best to overlook things like personal porn stashes or extended bathroom breaks. And the truth was it wouldn't be worth another beat down. Because while he doubted if Sam gave a shit that Adam was looking at Dean's porn – Dean would. Adam figured if he needed some self-gratification he would have to use his imagination. He almost did just that simply because he could. Sam might be able to punish him for academic inadequacies but he couldn't stop him from jerking off! Adam kicked his closet door angrily, oddly gratified at the hollow sound it produced.
So he thought all day. He planned and went over his plan until he was pretty sure he had most of the bases covered. It was a simple plan really.
All he had to do was grab the money from the can and sneak out tonight after Sam was asleep. Dean and Dad weren't due back for a few days and post punishment Adam was notorious for sulking so it might not even be noticed that he was gone till tomorrow afternoon. It was possible the money would be missing before that, but probably not. The can money was all of the Winchesters to use but it was understood that using it for stupid reasons was not acceptable. Adam wasn't dumb enough to think that running away from home was an acceptable reason. Then again, not starving when you decide to run away from home was probably acceptable. Easy enough to justify. A kid would need funds if he was on his own.
Sneaking out on his middle brother wasn't going to be easy though. He'd never done it before, well except for the very first time he met his family. Then it hadn't been just Sam – it had been Sam and Dean. Adam ruefully remembered sneaking away from their no tell motel and how it coincided with his first foray into Winchester discipline. Adam couldn't help but rub his butt again.
It didn't really hurt anymore but just thinking about potential spankings and previous spankings made him want to rub out any perceived sting.
All he had to do was wait for Sam to go to sleep.
It was then that he thought about dinner. He could still smell the fragrant lingering scent of chicken as it wafted up the stairs.
Food would get him in the kitchen with the can!
Adam carefully opened the door and followed the succulent smell of chicken down to the kitchen. It had been carved but was still warm. Adam whiffed appreciatively, then eyed the chicken appraisingly. There were lemon slices on it and thyme. Adam scraped at the thin, slightly crusty herbed chicken skin. Adam was pretty sure it was thyme, he doubted that Sam would lace chicken with weed.
"Change your mind?" Sam asked startling Adam out of his chicken inspection.
"Not really," Adam responded sullenly, "Just don't want the chicken to go to waste."
Sam snorted, a decidedly Winchester sound but stepped up behind Adam and placed an arm around his shoulders. Adam struggled to get away from the physical attention, but really didn't put too much effort into the battle. He shrugged hard once and Sam acquiesced with a grin.
"Okay, Rambo. Get your dinner if you want. I promise I won't continue with the love fest."
Adam had to admit, for a pain in the ass, Sam was a pretty good brother.
Adam caught himself on the word "brother". He looked hard at Sam, his floppy hair hanging in his eyes his body long and lean, bare arms ropey with muscle. Sam looked like a half grown colt, all legs, sinew and the promise of what he would be. That didn't mean that said colt wasn't strong or tough. Sam was both. Adam considered Sam carefully, if he wasn't his brother, than there was no need for Adam to beat himself up about his game plan. Even if Sam considered him a sometimes friend, well Adam's leaving would only make things better for Sam.
Adam needed to keep up pretenses, at least that's what he told himself when he grabbed a plate, ripped off a chicken leg and gnawed some meat off. Then, because he was a growing boy he dumped a heap of potatoes on the plate and green beans too. If he was going to leave, he might as well leave well fed.
Adam ate quickly. It was good and he was hungry. The combination put a whole new spin on fast food. Adam glanced at Sam when his older brother came back in the kitchen but he didn't slow down shoveling food in.
"You act like you're starved." Sam said disapprovingly.
"Shut up. You haven't been on lock down all day."
Sam nodded knowingly, "True, but even on lock down you were offered dinner."
Adam shrugged, "Didn't offer me lunch."
"That's 'cause at lunch time I was walloping your ass. That seems to be contraindicated you know. Beating and eating."
Adam huffed, "Well, you didn't have to beat."
"And that little brother, is where you are wrong," Sam began, " You knew damn well that you had those tests to do and you know how I feel about school work. Christ, Adam you are smarter than shit."
Adam felt more than saw Sam's gigantor body come up behind him. Sam grabbed him again, this time less brotherly and more rough. Still, it wasn't anything that Adam couldn't handle, Winchesters tended to be less lovey and more punchy. So Adam turned into his brother and jammed an elbow hard into Sam's ribs. Sam whoofed but didn't stop the onslaught. There was a brief moment or two of quasi wrestling, sort of fighting before both Sam and Adam gave up almost giggling together.
That is if Winchesters giggled.
Then panting lightly with the effort of trying to kill each other in such a short space of time the both boys looked at each other and laughed. Adam figured it was more laughter than actual attempted murder that brought on the gasps from his older brother.
"You, Ads, are cleaning up dinner." Sam stated, hazel eyes glinting with amusement.
"Why me? I've already been beaten within an inch of my life, grounded and now I have to do menial tasks."
Sam laughed again, "You're the youngest. You always have to do menial tasks. Besides, I cooked - you clean up."
"I think I should be absolved from clean up duty because my ass hurts." Adam attempted to glare at Sam.
"Well, unless you wash dishes with your ass, there is no absolution for you." Sam grabbed a dishtowel, rolled it expertly and flicked it once on Adam's rear. It stung like a thousand bees and instantly ignited Sam's previous handiwork. Adam yelped and skipped to the sink already grabbing the dish soap. His older brother laughed again then exited the kitchen, heading to do whatever Sam did in his down time. Probably reading War and Peace or something.
Adam turned on the water, poured an excessive amount of dish detergent in the sink and dumped the mismatched plates in the water. He glanced at the can sitting a mere three feet from where he was standing.
Should he? Should he take the money and go?
Adam debated as the water churned the soap into mountains of suds. It made him think of bubble baths with his mom. Well, not with his mom, but when he was a toddler. He liked making beards with the bubbles, feeling the soft bubbly foam all over his face. His mom had laughed and said he looked like his daddy. That was before he'd ever met his dad and when he had finally met him, the bubbly beard was nothing like the salt and pepper scruff that seemed to continuously reside on John Winchester's face whether he had shaved or not.
He looked at the can again. Maxwell House…Good to the last drop!
Adam took a step toward the can then glanced over his shoulder at the living room. He couldn't hear the TV, but Sam wasn't likely to be watching it. If Dean were home, the TV blaring would be a given but with Sam, he was more likely to be reading or researching. He strained his ears to listen for Sam's footsteps. Despite being tall and lanky, Sam was amazingly quiet when he wanted to be. Still, there was no reason for Sam to turn on the ninja act, there was no one home but Adam.
Another step and Adam was at the can. There was a moment's hesitation. Adam was a good kid. He didn't do bad things. He didn't lie and he most certainly didn't steal. Not from his family anyway. That wasn't even a Winchester rule that was a Mulligan rule. It made him feel like he was spoiling his mother's memory. She would have been disappointed and probably have given him a lecture. His mom was the queen of lectures and subsequent guilt. Adam smiled ruefully at his mother's memory and how damn good she was at making sure he would toe the line. His mom and his dad differed dramatically in their discipline styles. Stealing from the can was certainly it was something his Dad would whup him for. There was no doubt about that, still, it was more than the potential for physical reprimands that stilled Adam's hand moments before he touched the can. His dad trusted him. His family trusted him. That feeling gnawed at him, causing his stomach to flip and a dull ache to squeeze his chest. Adam blew off the image of his mom and his dad with an actual growl and a headshake that mirrored how he felt at the moment.
Adam pulled the money from the can with a quick jerk of the plastic lid, shoved the wad of money in his jeans and turned back to the dishes.
This was about Adam and taking care of himself. And of ultimately taking care of his everyone he cared about. He would never be a Winchester. Not really. And the sooner he was gone the better it would be.
XXX
Adam wasn't kidding anyone when he told himself it would be easy to sneak out on Sam. Still, with the excuse that he was going back upstairs and keeping a suitable pout on his face, he made sure that Sam realized that he was still upset. Sam would leave him be, let him lick his wounds. That was something that was as much a part of Sam as was his propensity for reading. True, he would come back to talk to him later tonight, but that would be much later. It would give Adam time to climb out the window, jump to the nearby tree and climb to the ground. The funny part was it was Sam, not Dean who had showed Adam how to climb out on the roof and jump to the tree. Sam had been feeling rebellious and pissed at both Dad and Dean so he had shushed Adam with a quick finger to his lips then gestured for Adam to follow him out on the roof. They had laughed at the fact that both of them were getting something over on Dad and Dean. They had only been gone for about an hour. Walking and talking and doing nothing at all. It had been scary though, knowing they were out after curfew and that they could find themselves in hot water. But it had been fun as well. It had been simple enough to climb the tree and jump back to the roof then through the window. No one was the wiser and it was a memory that Adam held tightly to himself. Just Sam and him hanging out like real friends. He wondered if Sam had ever told Dean. He didn't think so, Sam was too moral to share something that was just between Adam and Sam. That bothered Adam a bit too. He felt like he was somehow letting Sam down. Sam had shown Adam how to sneak out and now he was using it against him.
Adam shushed himself.
If he expected to get a move on and do this than he needed to stop all the second guessing.
Grab his stuff, the money and leave.
And he did.
XXX
Adam found himself on a long stretch of highway, heading west. He didn't mind walking but he wasn't planning on doing it forever. He stuck his thumb out, hitched his back-pack up over his shoulders and walked down the blacktop hoping to find someone going in the same direction.
It didn't take too long for a tractor-trailer to come up over a hill and slow down along side of him. The trucker leaned over the bench seat and opened the door with a strong shove.
"Hey kid, where ya headed?"
Adam jerked his head toward the road and thought of the first place that came to mind. "Albuquerque."
"I'm headed in that direction. Can't get you all the way there but maybe to Santa Rosa. You okay with that?"
"Sure."
Adam climbed up into the cab of the truck glancing at the man behind the wheel. The guy looked okay. Clean-shaven, baseball cap with a flannel shirt that had seen better days not much different than any other trucker he had seen.
"You can stow your pack in the back if you want." The trucker gestured toward the back of the truck. Adam shook his head. He felt better with the backpack on his lap.
"Name's Leroy. How about you?"
Adam almost blurted out "Adam" but quickly changed his mind, "Sam," he said almost without even thinking. Just using Sam's name gave him a certain amount of comfort, although he would deny it to everyone including himself.
Leroy reached across Adam and firmly shut the door. The sour odor of travel and unwashed male hung cloying in the cab and was compounded by closeness of Leroy. Adam grimaced but immediately condemned himself. Lord knows he and his brothers had been known to smell a little ripe now and then too. You can't judge a man on his lack of hygiene. Suddenly the locks clicked down ominously and for a brief moment Adam panicked, his breath harsh and rapid in the confines of the cab.
"So, Sam what brings you out in the middle of the night hitching to Albuquerque?"
Leroy smiled and Adam noticed his teeth stained brown with tobacco juice. Then, as if confirming the reason for his lack of dental hygiene, Leroy spat in a stained Royal Farm Stores Styrofoam coffee cup that was sitting in the front seat cup holder. Leroy's aim was none too good and brown spittle ran thickly down the side of the cup.
"Visiting my aunt." Adam lied.
"Hmnmm." Leroy agreed somewhat non-committally then he nodded in Adam's direction, "Put your seat belt on, boy. I'm all about the safety." Leroy offered another big brown smeared smile and then pulled the rig out onto the interstate. The truck lurched once and the gears ground harshly, a sickly growling noise that suddenly made Adam's stomach drop. Adam slid the seat belt over his body and clipped it into the buckle. Instead of feeling safer, his pulse hammered hard and fast in his throat.
Leroy grinned, "She's got a sticky second. Gotta get that fixed one of these days." Adam couldn't help but think of Dean and his dad's insistence on keeping the Impala running well. If this man depended on his rig for his livelihood, you'd think he would make sure she could roll into second without taking out the transmission.
Adam nodded and settled back, hands over his backpack trying to control his breathing.
There was silence for a bit. Adam looked out the window, attempting to avoid Leroy and his brown stained cup. Suddenly, but with exaggerated camaraderie that Adam in no way shape or form felt Leroy turned to Adam, a lock of greasy hair escaping from the dirty baseball cap. "Got any family nearby, Sam?"
Adam offered a nod that simultaneously corresponded with a sinking feeling in his belly. A tight clench that was as much biological response as a direct reaction to the proximity of Leroy. "Yeah, bunches, just no one who had a working car. My aunt is sick and well, they said it would be alright. As long as I keep in touch."
Adam added swiftly, "Which I will do."
It occurred to Adam with terrible instantaneous clarity that he didn't want to be in the truck with Leroy.
At all.
YYYYYYYYYYYYY
He glanced at the trucker out of the corner of his eye. What he had originally thought of as a kind, if maybe rough dude appeared far more dangerous once he was in the cab of the truck with a mere six inches separating them. The back of Adam's neck prickled and he felt a brief shiver of ice trail up his spine. Spidey sense Dean called it. His father had been less colorful in a description of that feeling. He had called it a following your gut. Dad had said that his gut had saved his ass on more than one occasion. It wasn't only supernatural shit that caused your "gut" to kick in either. When Dad was feeling melancholy or just a little drunk, sometimes he would talk about Vietnam and walking point through the jungles In Country. Trip wires, sniper fire, the sharp scent of napalm and fire in the hole. All just as deadly as a Wendigo.
His father was often abrupt when it came to words of wisdom. Much like his orders, his insight was often shouted or maybe growled and what he said wasn't often a suggestion. "Get down." was a favorite. "Stay put." was another. "Move your ass," was in the repertoire as well. Succinct and to the point. His father didn't explain a whole hell of a lot on a routine basis but Adam could remember almost verbatim what Dads' explanation about gut feelings. It was as if the explanation was something that he felt Adam should really know.
"Sometimes your gut is all you have between you and something bad. You gotta listen to that feeling, learn the telltale signs that your body knows something that maybe even your brain hasn't figured out yet. Pay attention to it, son, it might be all the edge you get."
It was John Winchester's voice in his head that now determined his next move.
"Hey Leroy, I gotta take a leak. Can we stop somewhere soon?" Adam kept his face calm and cool in direct contrast to the way his belly clenched.
Leroy grinned stained teeth that looked almost feral in the dim light of the cab, " Sure kid, next truck stop is maybe twenty miles away. Unless you want me to pull over."
Adam debated. Pulling over meant he would have to make a break for it and Leroy looked like he might not be able to catch him. Still, he just might. It wasn't worth the gamble. A truck stop would have other people around and Adam could use that to his advantage.
"I can hold out 'till the truck stop."
Leroy nodded then spit in the coffee cup. Adam couldn't help the slight wrinkle of his nose at the thought of spittle, chew and phlegm that were surely in that cup. Despite the dim light, Leroy must have caught the look, "Nasty habit," he said, "Could be worse though. There's lots of things that are worse than a little chew."
Adam tried to settle his heart rate down. He doubted that Leroy was supernatural, he didn't give off that vibe but Adam was quite aware that he was a kid in the cab of a locked truck with what could very well be a bad man.
Adam berated himself. He was an idiot and a moron. He was driving down the road, belted and locked in the cab of a tractor-trailer with what could possibly be Jack the Ripper. That being said, Adam wasn't stupid so he dropped his right hand to his boot feeling for the knife concealed there. The silver was warm from the heat of his body and the handle felt good in his palm. He offered a silent thank you to his father and brothers who had forced him to practice day in and day out with it.
"Ya know what Sam?" Leroy broke the silence, "I gotta take a leak too and I don't think I can make it the next twenty miles. Old man bladder and all that. Imma pull over. You can do your business while I do mine. Ain't like we both ain't seen dick before huh?"
Adam swallowed hard but allowed no emotion play over his face.
"Whatever."
Leroy pulled the truck over to the side. He turned to Adam stretching his right arm over the seat back. "Ya know I got a bed in the back kid. If you want to take a nap or something."
"No thanks." Adam was sure Leroy could hear his heart trip hammering.
Leroy cut the engine and the truck sputtered once or twice then shruddered finally stopping. There was silence in the cab of the truck. "How about I help you out?" Leroy asked voice low and husky.
"No, I'm good."
"Awe, Sammy. You might think you are good now, but I'm sure things could be a lot better. Howz about a little fun? Ya know…just us boys. No body around for miles." Leroy leered and reached for Adam's jeans. His hands dipped toward Adam's belt, skimming at the Henley he wore and pulling it up in one fell swoop.
Adam growled low. "It's Sam."
It took only a moment for Adam's hand to pull the knife from his boot. He shoved the blade hard at Leroy's belly but was shocked when the silver sliced through the man's arm instead. Apparently Leroy was a little faster than Adam expected. Or maybe Adam was too nervous to be accurate. Leroy howled and grappled with Adam, shoving his right hand down Adam's pants, obviously uncaring about the freely bleeding wound on his left arm.
"You bitch!" Leroy yelled using his bigger body to pin Adam down. Adam cursed himself. If he had made a solid first strike and Leroy was bleeding out with a knife in his belly, Adam would have felt a lot less hysterical. He screamed trying to knee Leroy in the balls. Adam would have liked to have thought the scream was manly, but he was pretty sure it wasn't. Leroy was fumbling with his fly, his stained teeth inches from Adam's face his breath fetid and putrid at the same time.
A moment later Leroy was being pulled out the driver side of the truck bellowing with rage. Adam unlocked his own door, grabbed his backpack and jumped out of the passenger side of the truck. He hit the ground hard and running but found himself hitting the non-yielding body of a man.
A familiar man.
"Dean!" Adam wrapped his arms around Dean with a ferocity he hadn't thought was possible. Dean responded in like, arms folding around Adam like a protective cocoon. From the other side of the truck he heard the familiar sound of fist on face, the crunch of bone and a corresponding moan. Then, Adam heard what he was pretty sure was a booted foot hitting the soft flesh of Leroy's body.
His father's voice was low from the other side of the truck and it was a growling timbre he'd never heard before, "You ever think about touching m'boy again, you'll have more than just some broken ribs and a permanent nose job to worry about."
Leroy whimpered and there was a muffled, "M'sorry." At least Adam thought it was what he said. It was hard to understand the man through what Adam was positive was a mashed mouth and quite possibly a broken jaw. But Adam could hear the terror in Leroy's voice. His father in protective beat down mode was a sight to behold. Dad tended to fight kind of methodically, hard, cadenced punches and practiced evasive moves, damaging yes but not really scary. Each punch was effective and designed to incapacitate his opponent as quickly as possible Fighting for Dad was part of the job and that's how John Winchester thought of it. But when angered he was a different kind of man. Lightening quick with fists that not only hurt but created the most pain in the least amount of time. The blows were just as incapacitating but sometimes instead of looking for an easy kill he would toy with them a bit, make them suffer. It was as if he thought "how can I fuck them up in the most painful way possible?" Sometimes the end result was the same because his father fought dirty and mean but in the times where he had let the person live (and it was always a person because monsters didn't really deserve to live) he wanted them scarred forever. They would never look in the mirror or walk without a hitch in their stride because he had marked them. They would never forget what they did to John and his family. The difference in fighting skills may not have seemed noticeable to outsiders but to the family it was obvious and terrifying in equal measure. Adam had a feeling this fight on the other side of the truck was the latter. There were some more sounds, a few more punches and sudden silence. Leroy would live but he would live with the telltale signs of his father's rage for the rest of his life.
His father strode around the front of the truck his big body momentarily blocking out the headlights. Dad pulled Adam away from Dean and hugged him just as tightly as Dean had.
"Adam, for God's sake are you alright?" His father's lips brushed the top of his head, his arms folding protectively around Adam. Adam could feel the wuff of his dad's breath in his hair, it was if the man was smelling him. Was it was reassure himself on an olfactory level that Adam was okay or maybe just a fatherly gesture. Oddly enough that intimacy felt good to Adam. He felt himself nestle in just a little closer.
"Yeah." Adam answered but he felt his legs shake and he couldn't help but burrow into his head into his dad's leather jacket. Adam could feel his father's heart through his shirt, strong and solid if beating a little fast. Dad smelled like dirt, sweat and strangely enough, the acrid scent of fear. His father was never afraid, but Adam smelled it he was sure. It was puzzling. There was no way that John Winchester had been afraid during Leroy's punishing if short lived fight.
For a moment they both stood there, Adam happy to be held and Dad happy to be holding him. Finally his father spoke low, "C'mon kiddo."
Dad looped his left arm around Adam secure and solid on the short walk to the car. Dean walked on Dad's right hand side, carefully keeping his body between the street and his father and of course Adam by proxy. He matched his father's footsteps stride by stride but Adam felt the man was shortening his own to make sure they were three astride.
"Dad, I…"Adam began.
"Shh," Dad interrupted, keeping his arm firmly around Adam's shoulders, as if maybe Adam would run away again.
Adam wasn't sure if the shh was relieved or irritated.
His father opened the back seat to the Impala, ushering Adam in like he was a toddler. Not that Adam had known his father as a toddler, but the man all but buckled him in the back seat before he settled himself behind the wheel. Adam positioned himself behind Dean who had taken up his usual position of shotgun. As if that would make things better, being behind Dean instead of Dad.
Adam only saw the darkened half profile of his father in the soft moonlight, but his expression was grim, shoulders taught with unreleased energy. Leroy's beating had barely caused his old man to break a sweat. Adam couldn't help but muse that it might have been better if Dad could have taken on a pack of Leroys. At least then he would be a little tired. Maybe his right arm would have worked out enough to slow down Adam's own what for.
Adam was under no illusion about his future ass kicking. It was just a matter of time, he figured. The impending spanking was worrisome enough to cause a kid to obsess over it. Where would it happen? The kitchen maybe? His room? Maybe the barn? A woodshed? Was there a woodshed? Adam didn't think so but there were woods and so maybe there was a woodshed too. He cursed himself for not having lived in the house long enough to scope it all out. Such was life of the nomadic Winchesters.
He looked at the back of his older brother's head. Dean mirrored their father – shoulders tight up against the front seat and although Adam couldn't see his face, he felt sure that it looked just as displeased as Dad.
That was a bummer.
Because despite the car washing spanking and subsequent floor cleaning spanking Dean was usually a pretty cool dude. He wasn't the type of brother to just start whaling on him. In fact, the opposite was true. Dean was more likely to cover for Adam if he could, much like Sam did.
It didn't look like Dean had any inclination to step in and persuade his father not to tan his hide. In fact, if Adam was a gambling man, he was pretty sure that odds were that Dean might just like to join in the beat down. It may have seemed a contradiction to the warm embrace he gave Adam when Adam jumped out of Leroy's truck but the reality was it wasn't. Winchesters were pretty clear about loving each other but they were just as clear about consequences for being idiots. And consequences often included a butt kicking. Not always, that was true, but based on Adam's recent run of luck it was more likely than not.
Adam sighed to himself. How could all of his good intentions have gone so haywire? He had just wanted to protect his family but getting off the radar. Adam mentally shut down that train of thought. Good intentions? Protecting his family? That was one way to put it, but Adam knew his running away wasn't just looking out for the best interest of his family. He had tried to use that as an excuse but the truth was, he had been tired of getting the raw end of the deal with regard to ass whippings. That had been the impetus driving him to leave tonight. Adam knew too that it was what it was. Despite the past few weeks, it wasn't just him who had rules to follow and consequences if they weren't. Sam and hell, even Dean were subject to the same discipline.
There was silence in the Impala as Dad, Dean and Adam absorbed in their own thoughts decided to opt for quiet introspection. Dad, dropped his head for a moment then turned the car over and she rumbled obediently to life. He didn't put it in gear though, just sat there with the car idling thinking whatever thoughts he had. He didn't share them with either boy, just sat in the dim interior of the Impala. Apparently the silence was too much for Dean because he reached for the radio knob only to be slapped hard on the hand by their father with ninja like quickness.
"Owe." Dean grumbled rubbing his now stinging left hand. "Whatcha do that for?"
"If I wanted the radio on, Dean, the radio would be on."
That was obviously something that Dean hadn't considered. As a rule, music always made him feel better, he didn't see why it wouldn't work for everyone else.
Dad glanced in the rear view at Adam, "What happened back there?"
"You kicked the ass of some trucker." Adam stated sullenly. He couldn't help it. Thoughts of his family and physical reminders to tow the line were making him agitated. His dark mood was only getting darker and the thought of what the night might bring made him feel another rush of anger.
"You son, had better watch your mouth." His father didn't say it with a lot of heat
but it was obvious that his patience had worn thin.
Adam wasn't sure if his father was berating him for the impudence or for the language. Neither was a good thing but for some reason, calling Adam out for cussing, if that was the case, made Adam even angrier. His entire family had been known to cuss a blue streak and his father? Well, he cussed like a freaking Marine.
"I just said, ass, Dad. It's not the end of the world."
There was a moment of silence, as if his father was either taking a deep breath or counting in his head.
Neither was a good sign.
"Are you tryin' to get your tail tanned sooner rather than later?" His father spoke calmly enough but that wasn't often an indication of how mad he really was.
Not again!
Adam's blood pressure went from slightly elevated to a hypertensive nightmare. He was going to die. He doubted his father's spanking would actually kill him but if the stress and anger rolling off of him was any sign of immanent death than his demise was a given.
"Just do it!" Adam yelled, his voice trembling with rage, "Just turn the Impala off and open the car door! We are on the side of the road, not a lot of traffic, grab your belt and start beating. Maybe you'd rather use a switch, cause there're lots of trees around. I'm not sure what else you can find but knowing you I'm sure you can probably scrounge up some rocks on the side of the road and take up the ancient art of stoning!"
Then to Adam's dismay his father turn the car off and then turned around from the front seat, right arm stretching out behind the seat back and eyes narrowed in Adam's direction.
"Can you please tell me what your problem is?" Dad asked with more than a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"ME?!" Adam answered with a question.
"Not lookin' at anyone else, son." his father said dryly.
Adam just glared.
"Go on Adam…you started this - now finish it." There was a finality in his father's voice that made it clear he expected Adam to answer.
"Uh, I'm gonna take a walk." Dean said to no one in particular, opening the door of the Impala with a noticeable protest of her hinges.
"Fine," Dad said, "Just don't go to far, I've had more than enough fun tonight hunting one son down – don't wanna have to hunt you too."
Despite the dark, Adam could see his brother roll his eyes at the suggestion and then stop himself as if realizing it was probably not in his best interest to aggravate his already agitated father.
"Yes, sir." Dean answered crisply and then stepped out of the car probably a little faster than necessary. The interior light momentarily illuminated the darkened car and the retreating form of his brother and then it was just Adam and his dad.
Adam sat stubbornly in the back seat and his father sat stubbornly in the front both with eyes fixed forward, Adam's on his back of the passenger seat, Dad staring out the windshield.
"So…" Dad prompted.
Adam ignored him.
"Speak your piece." His father said.
"Seriously?"
"Do you see me smilin'?" His father asked as he turned around once more from the front seat, meeting his brown eyes with Adam's blue.
"Okay, you asked for it." Adam offered.
"You're right I did and I meant it. Just remember, kiddo, it's been a long night and I have no intention of listening to my fourteen year old be disrespectful, so you watch your words."
Adam nodded then sniffled once. Not crying, of course, but Adam had to admit there was an emotional component to the sniffle.
"I'm just sick of it, Dad."
"Of what?"
"Of getting my butt whacked every time I turn around."
Dad arched one brow at Adam "You're kidding me."
"Do you see me smilin'?"
"I see you being a smart ass and I told you I wouldn't tolerate that."
"Dad, I'm not tryin' to be a smart ass. But I've had with the constant butt whippins. Every time I turn around someone is using my ass for target practice."
His father ran a hand through his dark wavy hair. "Okay, you tell me what you got your ass beat for and we'll see if it was appropriate."
Was this some kind of a test? Was his father changing his stance on beating asses?
"You whacked me for back chat last week."
"And you're surprised? I gave you a love tap warning you off and you ignored it. So yeah – I whupped your butt. You may not have liked it but you sure as shit deserved it."
Adam thought about spanking number two "What about Dean smacking me with a freakin' tree branch for not detailing the car?"
"Well, first off, it wasn't a tree branch. Secondly, you were detailin' the car as a punishment for ignorin' Dean when he told you to give him a hand with the guns. So he gave you a chance and you screwed him over so he went to plan number two which was a spanking. I don't see a problem with that."
"Of course you don't." Adam retorted.
"Watch it." His father growled, dark eyes growing darker with anger.
"Hey, you asked for my side of the story!"
"Yes, I did but with the caveat that you were to remain respectful. That changes and so does hearing your side."
Sorry," Adam said but with little contrition. Then he thought of the next spanking on his list, "What about you smacking me for no reason!"
"I've never spanked you for no reason."
"Spanking number three, Dad. I did nothing and you just whaled on me."
His father snorted, "Hardly, I told you to leave me alone. I was tired and had been up for three days straight. I warned you, kiddo. If I remember correctly, you were hounding me over taking you Conner Somebody's house. I'm sorry you don't know the meaning of no, but apparently I needed to explain it to you in a way that you would understand."
Adam shrugged. He'd forgotten about bugging his father about Connor.
"What about the damn floor? I mean, c'mon, Dad. How often do we take our boots off just to walk in the house."
"Your brother's call. And he had just washed the floor, it was a chore I'd given him so yeah, a little consideration for him would have been smart on your part."
Frustrated, Adam grunted then ran his hand over his hair in an unconscious mirror of his father's earlier gesture.
"And I guess it's okay that Sam whupped me over grades?"
"Yup. Although that was one I didn't know about. I take it he didn't wallop you for good grades though."
"It was just some dumb English quizzes that I missed."
"So, were you supposed to do them?"
"Yeah, but…"
"No buts…you were supposed to do them and you didn't. Ass whipping justified, that is unless you were doing something more important."
Adam was so not winning this conversation! "So, I'm the boy who gets it anytime any one feels like they need to beat on someone."
Dad looked at him reflectively, "Now that's just not true and if Sam or Dean decide to spank your ass with no reason, well, I expect you to tell me and I will take that up with them."
"But all those spankings!" Adam almost cried that part.
"Were well deserved, Adam. I'm not going to make excuses for any tanning you've gotten this week or last. You earned them all and if you think that running away and making me chase you all over Nevada is going to help your case, well you are sadly mistaken. Then…" his father growled this part, "you have the audacity to hitchhike and wind up with some skeevy trucker and almost find yourself a rent boy on the side of the road." His father's well-modulated voice was becoming rougher and lower, a sure sign that any patience he may have had was quickly dissapating.
"Nah, a rent boy would've meant he paid for it." Adam said without thinking.
His father opened up the front door, jumped out and almost simultaneously opened the back door pulling Adam out by the scruff of his collar.
"You kiddo, have plucked my last nerve."
And with that his father pulled his belt out with a quick wrist action that probably couldn't be duplicated by anyone else. He pushed Adam up against the Impala, using her as a lean to and proceeded to spank Adam's pre-tenderized ass. AGAIN. Except this time wasn't a lick and a promise, it was a full-fledged ass whooping with each stripe of the belt falling squarely on Adam's ass.
"YEOW!"
"You wanna feel what it's like to really get your butt whipped because truthfully, one through five on your 'Spanking list' were just wake up calls. Now THIS is an ass kicking." His father renewed his attention to Adam's behind.
Adam howled again and tried to struggle but his father's left arm firmly pushed him against the car and his right just as firmly continued to blister his butt.
Adam held his breath and tried not to yell again. He consoled himself that the first few smacks had caught him off guard but now he was trying to keep some control in a situation that was completely uncontrollable.
His pride and his vocal cords but it didn't last long.
"I'm sorry, Dad!"
"No, you're not. I just stopped my son from getting molested and quite possibly raped and you are making jokes about rent boys! Do you think this is funny?"
"No! No, I just…" Adam sobbed, "I was just trying to lighten the situation up."
"Well, how is that working for ya?" Dad renewed his efforts, as if actually articulating out loud how close his son had been to becoming statistic gave him added incentive. Adam lost count of licks, not that he was ever very accurate in counting them anyway. All he knew was that his father was putting some considerable effort into tanning his ass.
Adam flattened his hips against the car and that somehow gave him enough wiggle room to buck his butt to the right. His father brought the belt down hard and it slapped the Impala.
It made a distinctly different sound than belt on butt.
Dad paused then and peered at the reflection of the moon in the Impala's deep luster. "You best not make me mess up her paint job."
Paint job? Adam skin was being flayed off and his father was worried about the car?
Then the thought of what Dean would do if there was so much as a scratch on his girl made Adam fervently hoped the Impala remained unblemished.
He wished his butt unblemished. Apparently though that type of wish was not going to come happen tonight and truth be told, he wouldn't be sitting easy for awhile.
And Dad was right. The other spankings, by Sam and Dean and hell, even Dad were nothing compared to this. Adam had a vague recollection that unless Dean had decided to "Walk" to another county, he felt sure his big brother heard him voice his displeasure quite loudly over spanking six.
Dad laid four more stripes across his jeans each one carefully placed and designed for maximum discomfort.
"If you ever, ever, EVER run away like that again and put yourself in danger over something so damn dumb I swear, I will wear your ass out!"
Adam sobbed, nodding his head, sputtering out a "Yes, sir."
Well, that was what he tried to say but it came out slurred and sounding somewhat like a seal's bark in the death throws of a killer whale's jaws.
Damn, he had to stop watching PBS.
Adam took in another deep breath, oddly enough his father did too – as if both of them needed to breath to re-group and then Dad dropped the belt on the ground. Adam could hear the buckle's brass clatter against the rocks on the side of the road. It was disturbing that he knew that damn belt well enough to differentiate the sounds of it hitting the ground.
It was done, thank God.
Then just as quickly Dad pulled back his right arm and swatted him hard open handed over his blazing rump five times in rapid succession. Shocked Adam could do no more than bang his hips up against the car in an effort to avoid his father's hard hand. It did nothing to stop the onslaught or eliminate any hand to ass action.
Dad leaned over him driving his upper body up against the Impala. Adam was over come with the physical presence of his father. He smelled of leather and sweat and the earthy scent of grave dirt. Despite the pain in his ass, his father's presence was reassuring. His voice? Less so, "Get your ass in the car.", his father rumbled and then Dad whistled sharp and quick.
Adam scrambled to do his father's bidding diving into the car headfirst.
A moment later Dean appeared at the rear door opening it quickly and sliding himself in next to Adam. His father stayed outside the car, leaning against the quarter panel. Adam saw the brief flame as his father lit a cigarette and then just the soft glow of the tip.
"You alright?" Dean asked quietly.
"Yeah," Adam answered in what was most definitely not a snivel.
Dean snorted, "Sure you are. Anybody can take a belt licking from Dad and not even bat an eye."
"Didn't say that," Adam admitted. He rubbed the palm of his hand across his face, wiping tears and quite possibly snot away. "What's he doing?" Adam nodded toward his father through the back seat window.
"Smoking a cigarette, looks like."
"Why?"
"Nerves."
"Dad?" Adam voice sounded shocked even to him.
"Yeah, little brother, you scared the shit out of him tonight." Dean poked Adam in the chest with his finger.
"Me?"
"Something wrong with your hearing? Never knew a beating to affect you ears but there's a first time for everything."
"No, I just… why was he scared."
"Oh, I don't know. You ran away, got picked up by a child molester and hell, could've been eaten by monsters."
"Nothin' woulda happened. I had it under control." Adam said with a scowl. He hiccupped in a vain effort to bring in more oxygen.
"Yeah, you tell yourself that – I got some ocean front property in Arizona for you to buy too."
"Dick." Adam said.
"Shithead." Dean countered.
Adam tried to settle himself comfortably in the seat. It was impossible. "How long is he going to stay out there?"
"Do I look like a psyhic?" Dean grumbled.
"No."
"So shut up, " Dean said.
Adam shut up.
Then, ignoring his own dictate, Dean turned to Adam," Why the fuck you run away?"
"Dunno."
"Sure you do." Dean said, "So spill."
It wasn't an order but it was a brotherly demand. Dean usually got what he demanded.
"I got tired of getting my hide tanned."
"And this was your solution to that?"
Adam frowned, "Well, when you put it that way…"
"No other way to put it, Ads. Did you think that you were really going to be able to get away from Dad? Did you think that even if you made it out of Nevada that he wouldn't hunt to the ends of the earth to find you? And for getting your butt spanked? Stupid. Plus, knowing he'd find you, did you think he wouldn't give you a licking for running? " Dean looked out the window, "Seems like a pretty fucked up plan if you ask me."
"Wasn't asking you," Adam countered.
Dean turned to Adam then, green eyes serious. "Kid, what you did tonight? So dangerous. So scary. Dad almost lost his shit when we pulled up to the house and you weren't there. Sammy was babbling about lemon chicken and missing homework assignments, we could barely get him to calm down long enough to tell us what happened." Dean cocked his head like a dog listening for his master's voice., "I actually think Dad had to threaten him with an ass kicking before he was able to spill."
Adam frowned at the thought of Sam hysterically looking around for him. He was mad at Sammy for the spanking but he didn't really want him feeling bad about Adam leaving. Wel, maybe a little bit, but not like Dean was describing.
"Dude, we are Winchesters. You disobey Dad and you might find yourself getting your ass kicked."
"Yeah – okay, he's the dad, I get that but what about you and Sammy?"
"Chain of command, little brother. You're a Marine's son. You should know this."
Adam nodded. He did know but it didn't make him feel better. He gestured to his father still outside. "Is that his second cigarette?"
Dean shook his head, "Third."
"Is he giving us time to talk?"
"Maybe, but I doubt it, like I said you scared the shit out of him. Dad doesn't like to seem like he gets scared much but when it comes to us boys…well, we are his soft spot."
"Soft spot? I don't see any soft spot. Maybe a sore spot."
Dean laughed then and shook his head, "You are such a dweeb."
Adam wanted to laugh but he couldn't. The whole situation still just felt painful, in everyway possible.
Dean leaned back against the seat, fingers laced behind his head, half drowsing. Adam glanced at his father. There was no cigarette now but he still hadn't moved.
Adam did move though, he yelped when a particularly abused part of his butt somehow bumped into the ashtray. The Impala was a big car but not big enough when you were post Winchester spanking trying to find a comfortable position.
Dean laughed again, this time closer to a guffaw.
Adam glared at his brother, "You know, I would think that while you might believe in spankings, you might have just a little sympathy for your brother's pain. I don't ever recall laughing at you after Dad has decided to roast your ass."
Dean grinned, "Not laughing at that, Ads….What did you tell Dad when you were all crazy? Something about he was gonna take you out and reinstitute the art of stoning? SERIOUSLY? You are such an idiot! Who the hell thinks about getting stoned when their father is going to whip their butt?"
Adam snorted then thought about the statement, "Well, if you were stoned on some high quality shit, maybe the spanking wouldn't feel so bad."
Dean shook his head, "Nope, little brother, that kind of stone will lead you to another licking. Trust me. Been there, done that."
"You mean you….?"
Their father interrupted their conversation by opening the Impala's driver door and sliding in effortlessly. The seat groaned a bit with his weight, but it was a comfortable sound.
Dean leaned over and whispered low into Adam's ear, "Yup, I did and I don't plan on again."
Adam's eyes widened but he spoke just as low to his brother, "What? When? Tell me?"
Dean laughed, "Nope, that's a story for another time. Preferably when we are not held hostage in my girl. Certainly not within arms shot of the old man."
From the front seat his father grunted, a decidedly Winchester sound. "Old man? I'll show you old man. You two better watch yourselves back there." Dad's voice was low but he wasn't growling, in fact, if Adam didn't know any better he'd swear his father was holding back a giggle. If he giggled that is.
"Yes, sir." Both both boys answered in tandem.
Dean laughed again and Adam couldn't help but join in.
End.
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