Title: School Shopping Blues
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spanking!
Summary: John takes the boys shopping and Sammy gets himself in trouble.
A/N: This is my first spanking fic! I'm a little excited. I hope you enjoy it and it works.
John Winchester hated clothes shopping. Especially clothes shopping in August, when everyone and their brother was out buying school supplies for their children.
It meant long lines at checkout stands. It meant mothers, baskets full with bright-colored packages and expensive shirts, eyeing his boys with something akin to pity in their eyes when they took in the worn jeans and T-shirts.
It meant the end of summer, the end of the time when it was easy to keep Dean safe and with him all the time; when it was easy to move them all without any problems, to pass themselves off as tourists, a family on a road trip and nothing else.
Dean himself wasn't too thrilled either. Already the 8-year-old understood that money was always tight, and while buying things like clothes had to happen, if given the choice he was wise enough to choose to wear a ripped pair of jeans for another week if it meant another hot meal in their bellies.
But John refused to send Dean to a new school in clothes that were ripped or stained or didn't quite fit anymore. Dean was careful with his clothes, more careful than most 8-year-olds, but he couldn't help that he was getting taller and that his feet were getting bigger. The bottom line was, Dean needed new clothes, so there the three Winchesters were, standing in the clothes section of Wal-Mart, pulling out different sizes of jeans and looking to see what both fit Dean best and what he would grow into by the end of the year.
They had done their best to avoid the crowds by coming late, after dinner, but John still wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible.
"I like the black ones," Dean said, clutching them in his hands. "Can I get them too?"
John took them and nodded, noting that they were a size too big and reaching to pull out the right size. He always liked to get Dean at least one pair he wouldn't have to grow into, and if he liked the black best, he'd get the black in his size.
"Sure, son. How many pairs is that?"
"Four," Dean noted, looking at the basket, where Sam sat, a thin chapter book open in his lap. Dean had been teaching the 4-year-old to read since he'd been three and started begging, and it was something that apparently came easily to him, if the amount of time he spent buried in books was anything to go by.
"Alright. We should get a few more shirts, then look at shoes," John said, steering the basket over to the racks of shirts.
"Daddy I'm bored," Sammy declared suddenly, startling John.
"We're almost done, Sammy," John told him, already moving to inspect the shirts, looking for mostly nondescript ones. Dean spent a moment looking at a rack nearby that was filled with black shirts emblazoned with different types of skulls, then trotted over when John called him.
While the two of them looked, Sam tossed his book aside and stood up, throwing a leg over the side of the cart and lowering himself down quickly.
"Sammy!" John said, startling Sam, who would have fallen if John's hands hadn't already wrapped around his waist. "What have I told you about climbing out of the cart by yourself?"
"Sorry, Daddy," Sam mumbled, shuffling his feet. "I wanna look too!"
John sighed. "Then you ask, Sam."
"Sorry. Daddy can I please get down?" Sam asked dutifully, event though his feet were already on the ground. John sighed.
"Yes, Sammy. But stay where I can see you, understand?"
"Yessir," Sam said, already making his way to the rack Dean had been looking at.
"How many shirts do you need?" John asked, wondering how many shirts Dean had that were still presentable for school.
"Um…maybe three," Dean said, not meeting his eyes, which to John meant probably around five or six. He looked through the rack, snagging the ones that were Dean's size.
"Daddy I wanna get a shirt too!" Sammy piped up, holding one of the skull ones that was obviously too big for him. "Can I please?"
Dean was also looking at the shirt, and John watched envy cross his face for a moment. Most schools weren't impressed when Dean showed up with shirts that had designs on them, but Dean didn't just go to school, John reminded himself.
"Sure, Sammy, but just one, ok?" John said. He picked out three of the shirts from the rack in front of him and nudged Dean over to the other rack.
"Help Sammy pick out one his size, ok? And one for him to grow into." John winked at Dean, whose eyes lit up, and then put the shirts into the cart.
Dean had picked out the shirts and came back holding Sammy's hand. The shoe section was halfway across the store from them, and it was next to the dreaded toy section, so John put Sam back into the cart so he wouldn't wander away again like he liked to do.
Dean's sneakers were definitely in need of replacement, but when John asked him what type he wanted Dean answered, "I want to get boots, Daddy."
"Boots?" John asked, looking at the back row where the boots were. Dean nodded vehemently, so they headed there, and Dean started inspecting them all, a serious look on his face.
John glanced at the cart and saw Sam…wriggling was the best word for it. John knew exactly what it meant and groaned: Sam had to go to the bathroom. Again.
"Daddy I gotta go," Sammy said on cue, frowning. Before John could answer, a voice came over the store's loudspeaker, warning him that he had 15 minutes left to shop.
"Hang on a minute, ok Sammy? Once Dean's done I'll take you."
Sam sighed loudly. "But Daddy I gotta go now!"
"Sam!" John said sternly. "It'll only take 5 minutes, and then we'll go, I promise."
Sam settled again with another loud sigh, and John resisted answering it with his hand to Sam's backside. Sam was nowhere near as bad as Dean when it came to back-talk, but John was sensing a change in that particular area coming very soon, and he was not looking forward to it.
"Dad I can't figure out what size I am!" Dean called, holding a boot and frowning. Both his shoes were off, of course, and John smiled at the display of child-logic from his normally grown-up son.
"All right, come here, let me look," John said, taking the boot. It took a good five minutes to find out Dean's new shoe size, and to find a pair he liked in that size.
As Dean was putting his shoes back on John turned to the cart to put the shoe box in and found it empty. He froze, a million thoughts automatically tumbling around in his head, none of them good.
Oh, fuck. Sammy.
What the hell could sneak up on John Winchester and make off with his kid in five minutes? How had he not noticed someone taking Sammy? Why hadn't he heard Sam scream –
John paused, fists clenched around the cart's handle, forcing himself to be calm and think it through. He hadn't heard a scream because there hadn't been one. He was sure of it.
So logically that meant Sam had wandered off. Again.
"Sammy! Get back here now!" he called, waiting for the boy to appear from around the corner. But Sammy didn't. There was silence from the other side of the aisle, and when John looked, Sammy wasn't there.
"Dean, come on," John said, grabbing the cart and starting towards the toy aisle, where Sam usually wandered off to. But when they got there, steps quick on the white tile, he wasn't there, either.
John looked back at Dean who was looking around frantically, eyes wide with fear. "Sammy! Where are you?" Dean called. Of course there was no answer.
John stood for a second and then finally said,
"Come on, Dean. Front of the store. If he's lost that's where he knows to go." Sam's habit had earned him lots of stern lectures, and each included him going to the front of the store if he ever got himself lost.
As they headed to the front, both of them scanned each aisle, Dean's face growing whiter and whiter. Each step made John's chest clench a little tighter; if Sam wasn't up there…
When they finally neared the cash registers Dean suddenly yelled "Sammy!" and took off towards one of them. Before John even realized it was Sam standing with the cashier Dean had his little brother wrapped tight in a hug, squeezing.
John got there half a second later, sweeping Sam, who was crying, up into his arms.
"Sammy where did you go?" he demanded, not even bothering to wait for an answer as he hugged Sam tightly. He held on for a few moments, then put Sam back onto his feet and shook him hard. "What were you thinking?"
"I'm sorry, Daddy," Sam cried. "I hadda go, so I got down and went to the bathroom but then I couldn't remember where you were, and - "
"How many times have I told you not to wander off?! I told you I would take you to the bathroom once Dean was done!" John growled, the fear from earlier giving way to anger. Time and time again, he'd warned Sam about wandering off. And time and time again, Sam ignored him and went where he wanted, whenever he wanted.
It seemed that Sam was old enough that yelling and lectures weren't going to do him any good anymore. It was time to give him a more physical reminder.
A look at Dean, who was clenching his fists and shaking, firmed his resolve.
It was time for Sammy's first spanking.
John hugged Sam again and then handed him over to Dean, who held onto his hand so tightly Sam winced.
"Come on," John said. "Let's get this paid for and go home."
While the cashier rung them up, Sam turned to look at Dean, who wouldn't meet his eyes. "Dean are you mad at me?"
"Yes." That seemed to upset Sam even more, and he started crying again.
The ride back to the motel was silent. Sam wasn't really crying, but he was whimpering, and the sound tugged at John's heartstrings. He didn't like spanking his kids, but it wasn't fair to any of them to let Sam keep doing whatever he wanted, and if John had to spank him to straighten him out, then he'd do it, because it was his job as his father.
They got to the motel and carried all the bags inside. There was a book hiding amongst the clothes for Sammy, but John was going to wait until the next day to give it to him, so it wouldn't be seen as a reward for bad behavior.
"Dean," John finally said, sitting down on the edge of one of the beds. "Why don't you go take your bath and then get ready for bed?"
Dean looked at him for a moment, jaw clenched, and then he nodded and went into the bathroom, turning the faucet on so it would drown out some of the noise. Then John turned to Sammy, who was standing nervously near the table, avoiding John's eyes.
"Sam," John said. "Come here."
Sam bit his lip but came forward slowly, stopping right in front of John. John pulled him into the space between his legs and tilted his chin up so Sam had to meet his eyes.
"Sam," he said again. "You know what's going to happen, right? What I said would happen the next time you wandered off?"
Sam nodded, tears already welling in his eyes. "But Daddy - "
"No buts," John said gently. "I've given you a lot of chances, Sammy. But you just keep disobeying me, and I can't have that."
"But I didn't mean to get lost!" Sam protested hotly, tears spilling now. "I didn't mean to!"
"But you wandered off, didn't you? After I've told you not to over and over?" John asked. Not waiting for a reply, he reached for Sam and put the boy gently over his lap, tugging his jeans down.
Sam squirmed violently, already protesting. "No, Daddy, please don't, I'm sorry!"
"I know you're sorry, but you still have to be punished," John told him, putting a firm hand on Sam's back.
The first smack seemed overly loud in the motel room, and Sam's breath stuttered out of him. Then, he started howling, even though it probably hadn't hurt that much.
"No, daddy!" Sam howled as John started smacking solidly, cupping his hand on purpose so the sound echoed. The smacks themselves didn't do much more than sting, but the sound was enough to scare Sam.
"I don't ever want you to wander away from me again, Sam!" John scolded, hand falling six times in rapid succession, pinking Sam's bottom. "Never! Do you know how scared I was when I turned around and you weren't there anymore?"
"Noooo," Sam moaned. "I won't get lost again, never ever, Daddy, I promise! I'll be good! I'm sorryyyy…"
"Not only did you wander away again, you climbed out of the cart by yourself again, didn't you? After I had just told you not to?" John continued, smacking Sam's thighs a couple of times, not very hard but just enough to sting. "You could get hurt if you fell, Sam! I tell you not to do things for a reason!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please stop daddy…" Sam sobbed, kicking his legs slightly. His bottom was pink now, and John decided that this was almost enough for Sam's first spanking. He had saved the thing that would hit Sam hardest for last, as he placed a few smacks on Sam's sit spot.
"Do you know what you did to Dean? How scared he was when he couldn't find you even though he looked everywhere?"
"I'm sorry," Sam's sobs increased in tempo suddenly as what John was saying sunk in. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I swear! I'm sorry…"
John stopped spanking and stripped Sam's jeans off, pulling up his underwear gently. Sam was still shuddering, his entire face flushed and hot, and John lifted him gently and hugged him tightly, letting Sam sob against him.
After a few minutes of John rubbing his back, Sam's sobs quieted and he sighed, relaxing against John's chest.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," Sam said softly, his thumb creeping up into his mouth. John took it back out, squeezing it in warning, and then making Sam look at him again.
"It's okay, Sammy, you're forgiven now. You did good." John said. "Don't ever do that again, you hear?"
"I won't," Sam promised. "Daddy…were you really scared?"
"Of course I was scared," John said promptly. "I was scared someone had taken you and weren't going to give you back."
"I'm sorry Daddy," Sam said, hugging him tightly. "I didn't mean to make you scared. I just hadda go bad."
John chuckled. "How about this. I promise to do better at taking you right when you tell me you have to go if you promise you won't go to the bathroom on your own again."
"I promise," Sam said promptly, grinning at him. He snuggled back down and John kept rubbing his back. John expected him to fall asleep but was surprised when Sam said quietly,
"I was scared too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I forget how to get back to where we were, and the store was so big, and there were all these people around I didn't know…it was scary."
John hugged him again kissed his hair, saying, "Nothing's gonna happen to you as long as I'm around, ya hear?"
"Promise?"
"Promise," John answered immediately. Sam did fall asleep then, and John put him into pajamas – well, what Sam considered pajamas, just one of John's old shirts that he insisted on wearing to bed – and tucked him safely into bed.
Dean came out, skin bright pink and wrinkled from being in the bath too long. He slid right into bed immediately. John sat by him and rubbed his back, noting how tightly Dean's arm was slung around Sam's waist.
"You okay, buddy?" John asked softly. Dean looked at him and nodded, but John knew he really wasn't. "Don't worry, he won't do it again."
"I didn't even notice," Dean whispered, not looking at him. "I'm supposed to watch out for him and I didn't even notice that he was gone."
John sighed and laid down on Dean's other side, kissing Dean's hair too. "I know it was scary. But Sam's here now, and we just have to make sure we keep a closer eye on him, ok? It wasn't our fault, Dean. All we can do is promise to ourselves to do better."
Dean nodded and wriggled back against John's chest, sighing. John hugged both his boys close and closed his own eyes, the boys' soft breaths soothing him to sleep.
Sam was subdued the next morning. He woke up late and crawled immediately into John's lap while he was going through the paper.
"Hey, buddy," John said, slinging an arm around him. "Are you still a little scared from yesterday?"
Sam nodded and snuggled in closer.
"You want to read the paper with me?"
"Yeah!" Sam wriggled around so his back was to John's chest, and the two of them read the paper together.
Sam kept shooting shy glances at Dean, who was watching TV and shooting glances back. John smiled and fished Sam's new book out of the bag. Sam's face lit up. He threw his arms around John's neck and kissed his cheek, and then he got down and approached Dean shyly.
"Dean?"
Dean took his eyes off the TV and eyed his little brother, who still hadn't gotten dressed and was fidgeting, one hand tangled behind his back in the shirt, the other clutching his book.
"Yeah, Sammy?"
"Will you read with me?"
Dean smiled warmly and nodded, scooting over on the couch. Sam shot up next to him and snuggled into his side. Dean opened the book and Sam started reading, stumbling over the bigger words and making Dean help him pronounce them.
John smiled at his boys and went back to his paper. Things were good. Money was going to be okay for awhile, they'd gotten through Sammy's first real punishment, and best of all, school shopping was done.
At least for another year.