15-year-old Sam tries to sneak out to a party he knows he`s not allowed to go to and gets caught by John.
John Winchester was tired. It was 1am and he'd been driving for the past three and a half hours to get home to his family. He'd been called out to a conference about some new equipment being released the following month. His partner had asked him to drive out to Kearney for the meeting; he was one of the more experienced mechanics at the garage and he understood how parts worked well enough to recognise the tools that would be investments and what would be wasted money.
He drew a hand across his stubble, fighting a yawn. He knew he should take a break but he wanted to surprise his boys. Dean was taking a year out and working to get some money behind him. He'd never been a huge fan of school; he was a bright kid but his attention span… Well, he didn't have the best attention span and it was no secret in their neighbourhood that he didn't want to spend his life studying. He was torn between following his dad's footsteps and becoming a firefighter.
The fire in their home when he was a child had really shaken the kid. It was the night Dean had nearly lost his Mom and baby brother, after all. Mary had gone into check on Sammy but there had been a problem with his nightlight overheating and sparking, causing a fire to start. Mary had been stuck, unable to escape, and had sent John and Dean out. John had managed to get Sammy out quickly too but he'd had to wait for the emergency services to get Mary back. They'd spent two weeks at the hospital, sitting by her bedside, waiting to find out if she'd pull through.
His Mary was a fighter though. It had been tough and it had taken her a while to return to her usual self, but she'd pulled through. Sammy had had a nasty cough for a while but he'd done well and had grown to be the brains in the family. Dean had insisted on taking toys and books to the hospital for Sammy and his Mom, glaring at John and kicking off whenever his father suggested anything different.
John smiled ruefully, remembering the countless tantrums and battles they'd undergone. It had brought them close together though; he and Dean were similar and the trauma had caused them to cling to each other somehow. It was good, being so close, but John knew Sam sometimes felt a little left out. Sam was far more like Mary, he had her brains and her quick wit, but John was aware that boys needed good relationships with their father. He'd always found Sam harder work than Dean, purely because Dean was much better at doing what he was told when he was told; without an hour long battle of wills.
The oldest Winchester wouldn't change his boys for the world though. Or his wife. He knew Mary probably would; after the fire she'd ended up with some burn marks. John thought they made her look more beautiful if anything, but Mary didn't agree. They showed her strong character in his view, and to John beauty lay more beneath the surface than anywhere else.
John shivered at the chill in the air and turned the heat up, flooring the accelerator a little. If he kept up this pace, he could be home before it was time to get up. He had the day off as part of his trip so would be able to see the boys out to work before getting a solid 8 hours in. God, there was a thought.
Sam glanced at his watch, trying to make sense of the hands. He wished he hadn't had that last beer… He finally managed to make sense of the time and winced. Half 2. He hadn't meant to stay so long. He'd really only meant to come for a couple hours, until his Dad had veto'd his plans. Sam hated his parents sometimes; Dean had done all this stuff at Sam's age but they were so protective of him.
Dean was cool though, he'd agreed to cover for his brother so Sam could go to the party for a couple of hours. The only condition had been that he wasn't to get drunk, or Dean was going to kick his ass… Right, that had worked really well… Sam gulped, pushing his shaggy hair out of his eyes. If he left now, he could still get six hours sleep and nobody would know any the wiser about the beers he'd consumed.
Relieved to have made a decision, he glanced round the room at his school friends. They had all had a few drinks, but some of them were in a worse state than others. Sam sought out his best friend Jamie to say bye, then went to find his jacket.
He was only a little tipsy, he hoped, so reckoned he could jog the few blocks home. He looked up in surprise when Jamie appeared in step beside him, two cans of beer in hand. "Hey man. I brought you this, thought we could have one last one on the way home…"
Sam accepted it gratefully, popping it open as he began to walk. The boys lived near one another so it would be pleasant having company. Sam knew Jamie was likewise dead if his parents found out, but this was all part of being a teenager. Surely his parents would understand that if they found out? Sam felt his stomach muscles clench and pushed the thoughts out of his head. He was not going to get caught, damn it! He tugged his leather jacket tighter round his slim frame before shoving his free hand into his pocket. When the beer can was finished, a pleasant buzz filled his ears and he scrambled over a low wall to shove it in a trash can before catching up with his friend. They picked up their pace then, oblivious to how wobbly they looked.
John stepped inside his family home, letting out a relieved breath. Hot damn, it felt good to be home. He dropped his back on the floor, then stretched, feeling the tense muscles in his back relax slightly. He checked his watch: quarter to three. He'd made good time. Well, he probably shouldn't have pushed the speed limit on that last stretch of highway but it was all worth it to see his family. He got a glass of water and downed it thirstily then sighed. He'd check in on the boys then catch some sleep and give them a surprise at breakfast.
He was careful not to make too much noise as he went upstairs. He managed to avoid the notoriously creaky step halfway up the staircase and headed for Dean's doorway first. He peeked in, grinning at the way his son was spread-eagled across the bed, snoring slightly. That was his Dean, alright. He watched for a moment then closed the door quietly and made his way to Sammy's room. He and Sam had last spoken on tense terms and he was keen to see his boy and make amends with him in the morning.
He knew Sam had really wanted to go to the party, and had almost said yes. He knew from experience with Dean that these things always ended disasterously and didn't want to leave Mary to deal with getting a drunken teenager home. Dean could probably have coped with it (so could his wife) but he wasn't sure that Sammy would have heeded Dean. Dean and Sammy were close, but Dean was still a teenager too and he knew how damned stubborn Sam could be.
John sighed. Maybe next time a party came up he could let the kid go and go pick him up. That way he'd know Sam was safe and still give the kid a chance to be a teenager and socialise. Satisfied he had a plan of action, John gently opened the door. He didn't see the familiar mound of Sam's tall, slim frame, but thought maybe it was the light. He stepped into the room and scowled. Sammy definitely wasn't in that room. Damnit! John was going to kill that boy.
He left Sam's bedroom and went downstairs, trying not to get annoyed. Where was the stupid party? He rustled papers in his search for an address or anything that might give him a clue to Sam's whereabouts, glancing up when he heard a key in the lock. He put the papers he was holding down and leaned against the arm of the couch, suspecting he knew exactly who was making an appearance.
Sam dropped his key on the ground beside the front door, cursing and fumbling to pick it up. It took him a few attempts to fit the key into the lock and turn it, but eventually he succeeded and fell through the doorway with a yelp. He managed to get himself up right eventually and looked up, straight at his father.
"Dad?"
"Hey, Sammy."
"What are you doing home?! Y…you… you're not coming home until tomorrow!"
"My meetings finished up early."
"Oh. Um…. How did it go?" Sam asked, proud to hear he didn't slur his words at all. He knew he was having to concentrate to get the words out right, but was just relieved to be speaking coherently. That last beer had gone to his head during the walk home.
"Fine thanks, son. I got all the notes I needed about the equipment Mike was asking about, so we can talk about it and make a decision. It wasn't so great arriving home early only to realise my fifteen year old son had decided to deliberately disobey me and go to a party I distinctly remember telling him he wasn't going to."
"Jee, Dad, that sounds awful. I'd better go up to bed and let you deal with that…incident. Uh…" Sam tried to sidle past John but he was a little wobbly on his feet and managed to almost trip over his own feet. He muttered to himself, quieting when he felt his Dad take a strong hold on his bicep and hold him upright.
"For heaven's sake, Sammy, how much did you drink?" John asked gruffly, concern lacing his voice.
Sam shrugged, feeling a little sick. "Uh… four beers? Dunno…"
John sighed but was soon distracted when his son tensed in his hold, looking at him wide eyed. "Sammy?"
"Feel sick…"
John led him to the kitchen sink quickly, not up for cleaning the floor at this time of night. He kept a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder while his son threw up, murmuring soothing words to him. He was still angry but he reckoned this would probably be punishment enough for the teenager until morning. He also smelled the distinct scent of whiskey and made a mental note to discuss Sam's story with him in the morning. Right now though, getting the kid to bed was his priority.
He looked up in surprise when Dean appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes.
"Sammy? What's wrong? You told me you weren't gonna drink tonight… I… Dad. Uh… You're home early."
"Apparently that's common sentiment round here, buddy."
"Uh… Did you have a good trip? Is he alright?"
"He'll be fine. My trip went well, it was pretty productive. Head on up to bed, kiddo, I'll get Sammy to bed. We can talk tomorrow."
Dean pulled a face but recognised a losing battle when he saw one. "Night, Sammy. Feel better soon…"
Sam managed to lift a hand in acknowledgement but didn't speak. Acting on instinct, Dean grabbed a glass of water, then squeezed his brother's shoulder. "Night, Dad. It's good to have you home."
John smiled ruefully. "I can imagine. Sleep well, Deano."
Dean headed upstairs, leaving his Dad with his brother. Sammy stopped throwing up after another few seconds and leaned into his father's side, feeling miserable.
"You done, champ?"
Sam nodded slightly, eyes closed.
"Alright, come on. Let's get you into your bed. You'll feel better when you've slept…"
It took a bit of work for him to walk the teenager upstairs, but eventually they managed. John got Sam's teeth cleaned and told him to use the toilet then stripped him down, helping him into his pyjamas. He found a basin and tucked Sam into bed, putting the bucket by his bed. He put a glass of water on the bedside table then watched him for a moment with a sigh. He heard a quiet snore from Sam and forced himself to relax, then headed downstairs to tidy up.
Once he'd cleaned up the sink, he got ready for bed and climbed in beside his wife. He'd left the bedroom door open, along with Sam's door, in case his son needed him, then wrapped an arm round Mary, smiling when she snuggled closer. He lay quietly for a few minutes then dropped into an uneasy sleep.
John rose early the next day. He woke just after seven, as was his usual custom, and went straight to Sam's room to check on his youngest. Sammy was still fast asleep, blankets tangled around him and a frown on his face. The glass of water sat untouched on his bedside table, and fortunately his boy hadn't thrown up. John sighed and stepped over, carefully untangling the blankets and fixing them around the teen.
Sam groaned, rolling over in his sleep. "Shhh, you're alright. Sleep, buddy."
John's quiet words, and patient hand through Sam's hair seemed to soothe the kid back into a settled sleep. John stepped away from the bed and watched a moment longer, then turned towards the door.
He was surprised when he saw Dean stood there in pyjama bottoms and one of his Dad's old hoodies. John tilted his head, following Dean out into the hallway and downstairs. Dean turned to face him when they were out of earshot, looking concerned.
"He alright?"
"Yup. It's still early, champ. Why don't you head back to bed? It was a late night last night."
Dean bit his lip uncertainly. "But…"
"Go on. He'll sleep a couple more hours yet."
John needed a coffee, pronto. He was tired and could feel temper simmering below the surface and needed time to himself to unwind before speaking to either boy.
"C'mon, Dad…"
John counted to ten in his head, trying to remember Dean was technically an adult. He raised an eyebrow, frowning when Dean blatantly ignored it and went to pour two mugs of coffee.
"Black" Dean explained, holding one out. "The way you like it."
John accepting, muttering a grateful thank you. They stood in silence for a few minutes, sipping the coffee and savouring the caffeine entering their systems. Dean squirmed as the silence lengthened, wishing his father would say something.
"Look, Dad. I…" He trailed off uncertainly when he caught sight of the stormy expression in his father's hazel eyes. John quirked a brow, sipping his coffee with an expectant look.
Dean swallowed nervously, tensing as he noticed what he was doing. He was an adult for Christ's sake! Why did his authority not count for anything? Dad hadn't been there so Dean was technically man of the house.
John watched an all too familiar bull-headed look come into Dean's eyes and resisted the urge to curse. He was already annoyed at his eldest and didn't have the patience to get into a verbal battle too.
Dean took a breath and spoke. "Look, I get that you were worried about Sam last night. But really, it's not that big a deal. He's fifteen, it's just part of growing up. He didn't mean anything by it, he just got carried away. There's no need to be mad at him."
John bit back a smile. Trust Dean to be trying to protect his baby brother, even when it was futile. "He disobeyed me, and technically he lied to his Mom by pretending to be asleep and then sneaking out. You both lied to her." John added pointedly. Dean had the good grace to flush a little at that.
"We didn't, not really…"
John frowned, squaring his shoulders a little. "Dean…"
Dean huffed. "Whatever…"
John took a step closer, starting to lose his temper. "Don't get smart with me, ace. You deliberately disrespected your Mom and I by helping Sammy. I'm not happy with you about this."
"Oh, come off it. Like I need your blessing. And like you've never fucking done something similar. It was a party dad. Just a party! So he's not used to alcohol, had a few drinks too many. He's alright, isn't he? I'd have gone over if he wasn't back soon."
"You were sound asleep" John pointed out wryly. Dean scowled.
"I had an alarm set…"
"Oh, is that right? How'd you plan on sneaking that past your Mom, huh?"
Dean shrugged, looking away in a huff. John set his jaw, knowing his son's body language well.
"Don't lie to me, Deano."
"What?"
"Do I have to put you in a corner like when you were ten, until you can that attitude?"
Dean's ears turned scarlet. "No." he muttered sullenly. Well, at least he'd lowered his voice.
"Good. Now, level with me. Did Sam beg you?"
Dean didn't speak. John wasn't surprised. His boy were fiercely protective of each other and wouldn't give up the other no matter what. It was something John and Mary were both proud of and deeply exasperated by. They'd raised their boys to look out for each other but at times like this he could really do with the truth… He sighed.
"Dean… Last chance."
Dean crossed his arms stubbornly.
John frowned, stepped closer and grabbed his son's arm in a solid grip.
"Ah, fuck! What the hell, dad?"
Dean yelped as his father's hand came down against his pyjamas, trying to pull away.
"Cram it, buddy. I'm fed up of this attitude and the lies."
John kept swatting, knowing from experience that the best way to get his eldest's attention was with physical discipline or grounding. Now that Dean was getting older, John tried to use more "mature" consequences with him, but sometimes he had to conclude that if it wasn't broke, why fix it?
Dean hissed and squirmed, trying to wriggle out of John's hold. "Get off me, Dad! Stop being such a fu…freakin' jerk!"
"One more smartass comment and I'll do this properly. Is that what you want, son?"
Dean didn't speak at first, totally disbelieving. No way. His dad wouldn't spank him, not now that he was nineteen. He couldn't! That was like… No way! A particularly heavy swat to his thigh brought Dean back to earth with a grunt and he made a quick decision.
"Mmph! Ow… No! Dad, stop… I'm sorry!"
John landed a handful more burning swats then stopped and let Dean go, shaking out his stinging hand. "Lose the attitude, kid, alright? I'm tired and I'm disappointed, don't think I won't haul you over the table for a round on your bare butt. We clear?"
John asked gruffly, letting a little bit of his marine training seep into his demeanour. Dean nodded mutely, blushing and staring at the kitchen floorboards awkwardly.
"Right. Sorry. Uh… S…Sammy was really disappointed, when you said no. He…" Dean dragged a hand through his short blonde spikes. He hated dropping his brother in it with their parents… "He was desperate to go, there's this girl… I dunno. He's sweet on her I guess. I figured you'd be away and I'd look out for him so then he'd get a couple hours with his friends then I'd go across and walk him home and you'd never know. Work's been pretty busy and I just… I guess I fell asleep."
Dean shrugged in agitation, almost like the baggy jumper was too tight. John nodded his understanding. "Were you planning on telling me about it at all?"
Dean swallowed nervously, giving John all the answer he needed.
"So, you lied to us, disrespected your Mom and I's authority and set a really crappy example for your brother? Who, by the way, is going to have one hell of a hangover when he wakes up…"
"What? He only had a few beers…"
"And some whisky."
"Whisky?!"
John nodded, intrigued when he saw the temper flare in Dean's eyes. "Yup. He told me he had beers, but I recognise a good dose of Jack when I smell it."
"Damn runt… I told him he wasn't to have more than three beers or I was gonna kick his ass and tell Mom what had happened…"
John raised his eyebrows, leaning back against the counter. "Is that right?"
"Dad, I'm not a total idjit…" John grinned quickly at the term. His friend Bobby was a big fan of the word and Dean spent a lot of time with the older man. No wonder it showed.
"Alright, well I guess that's something. When was he meant to come home?"
"Two. I figured that would let him still sleep eight or so hours. Dad, I swear…"
John sighed, scratching his three day old stubble. "I know, pup. I get it. You weren't trying to make a mess of things, it was just a stupid choice. Next time, you do what your Mom or I say, alright? And you damn well don't go behind my back just because your brother doesn't like something we say. Do you understand me?"
Dean baulked a little at his Dad's tone. Although he often seemed cocky and carefree, he was actually more sensitive than he made it. He hated disappointing his parents. "Yeah, I get it. I'll try not to cave next time. Are you really mad?"
John stood up and swallowed the rest of his coffee. "I'm not impressed. Dare I say it, I'm a little disappointed. Since you've been straight with me, I'll give you a choice. Either we ground you for two weeks, no socialising after work or social calls." John saw Dean pull a face. "…Or I can bend you over the counter and tan your tail like my dad would've done."
Dean groaned, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Is there a third choice?"
John chuckled. Brat… "'Fraid not, son. I need to know I can trust you with your brother, especially if I'm away with work."
Dean groaned. "Will it be a bad one?"
"That depends on how you take it."
"And you won't back down on the two weeks? There's this concert on Thursday…"
"Sorry, squirt. No concerts. I'll ask your Mom about some jobs you can help her with round the house to fill your time."
Dean bit his lip, sighing. "Alright, fine… I take a hiding, I can go to my gig next week?"
"Do I ever hold it against you after your butt's been whacked?"
Dean shook his head, offering his dad a genuine smile. "Nah. Once you start whacking, you stop being such a grizzly. You gonna spank Sammy?"
"Too right I am. He won't be sitting comfortably at dinner tonight."
Dean gulped. That didn't sound good. "Don't whip him dad…"
"I used my belt on you the time you…" Dean held up his hands to stop him.
"I remember. You don't have to remind me… Just… Go easy on him, please? For me? He's only little."
"He's fifteen."
"You know what I mean. He's not exactly our resident troublemaker…"
"No, he'd never manage that with you around…" John teased, reaching out to ruffle the kid's hair.
Dean grinned before turning serious. "Um, so where do you want me?"
"Bend over the counter. Lose your pyjama pants but you can keep your boxers as long as you co-operate. Wait here a minute, alright? I need to get my belt…"
"Your belt? Aw man…"
"Relax. If I use my belt I can finish much faster. Besides, I don't want to wake the others up. Your Mom's been working so hard recently, she deserves a break. "
"True. She was exhausted last night…"
John nodded thoughtfully. That was no doubt how his boys pulled off their very own great escape. He made a note to himself to speak to Mary about taking a few days off to unwind and rest. Maybe they could rent a cabin for a few days and get some breathing space.
"Okay, champ. Stay there, I'll be back in a minute."
John headed upstairs, taking a minute to calm down. He hated kicking his kids' butts but grounding Dean was hell. The kid hated being stuck inside. He'd always been energetic as a kid, and being cooped up was awful for the poor kid. It ended up being nearly as much of a punishment for his family as for him.
Sam hated it too, but he could manage it. He tended to do extra school work if need be, but he hated getting his ass handed to him. Hated the fact he couldn't talk his dad out of it or make it stop. Sam was used to bullshitting his way through things; he was a damn smart kid –like his mom- and sometimes John couldn't keep up with half of what he said. When he screwed up though… John Winchester liked to think he was a fair man, and a fair parent, but he was also strict. That was how he'd been brought up and it worked for them.
John crept into his and Mary's room and eased his belt out of his jeans. He heard Mary stir and glanced across, smiling fondly. "Jonny? Is that you?"
"Hey, Mar."
"Did you have a good trip? When'd you get home?"
"During the night. It's still early, babe. Get some sleep. You've been working so hard recently and you need to rest. I'll fill you in when you wake up but it's only half seven. Love you, angel."
Mary was still in the depths of sleep and nodded round a yawn, reaching for him. "Give me a kiss first then…"
John happily obliged, stroking her hair away from her face. Mary smiled, stretching like a cat and quickly rolled over. John waited until she was asleep then went back down to find Dean. He hated keeping either of his boys waiting.
Sam woke up with a groan. His head was pounding and the light behind his eyes were burning. He tried to roll over and felt his stomach leap upwards towards his throat. He moved fast, praying he hadn't dreamt up the basin beside his bed. He barely had time to process it was indeed there before he was retching, wishing he'd just get everything out of his system.
When he was done, he lowered the basin and sank back into his pillows miserably. Why did his dad and brother drink if this was what happened? He felt like shit. He whimpered without even noticing and tugged a pillow over his face, curling up in a ball.
"Sammy? Baby, are you okay?"
Sam peeked out from the pillow, one eye screwed shut. "Mom?"
"It's me." Sam felt the mattress dip as Mary sat down beside him. "Are you okay?"
"I feel sick…"
"Oh, sweetheart. I'll go get you a drink and something for your tummy. Is it a headache, or your tummy?"
"Both…"
Mary smiled fondly down at the lump below the duvet. "You stay here and Mom'll be back soon, honey."
She squeezed her son's hand to reassure him then headed downstairs. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, looking into the lounge in surprise. Dean was laid out on the couch on his tummy dosing while John sat reading the morning's paper, coffee in hand.
He looked up with a smile when she entered. "Hey, Angel. How you feeling?" He asked, putting his coffee mug aside.
"Good. I just woke up, Sammy's not feeling so good so I just came to get him something to help him feel better. I…"
"He's hungover, Mary."
"He can't be… He was home last night, working on a paper for school."
John sighed, glancing across to where Dean was pretending to sleep. He nodded towards the kitchen, standing up quietly. Mary followed him to the kitchen after darting a worried look at her eldest.
"Is everything alright, Jonny? What's going on?"
"I got home at about three this morning and found Sammy's bed empty. He arrived home drunk not long after and managed to throw up in the kitchen sink. Turns out after we said no, he went to Dean and bitched about it. Damned kids snuck round you and Dean helped him get out. I already dealt with Dean, but I was waiting until Sam slept of the alcohol."
"What? But… Jonny, they told me… I didn't know they were planning anything. How much did Sam drink?"
"He claimed it was just a few beers but I could smell the whisky on his breath so who knows what else he'd been drinking. I'll take his drink and some aspirin up to him in a minute. Mary?"
Mary had a familiar glint in her eye and John watched in surprise as Mary went to stand over Dean, landing a sharp swat to his thigh. Dean woke up with a yelp, bolting up right. "Shit! Dad, what'd I do now? Oh. Mom…"
"That was for your part in all this. You lied to me…"
"I know, Mom. I'm sorry…"
Mary sighed, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Did your Dad get you good?" She asked gently, knowing her son was sincere.
Dean nodded. He recognised when his Mom was about to give him a free pass at some sympathy. "Uh-hu. He whipped me, Mom…"
Mary rubbed his back affectionately. "Good. You deserve it, you daft boy. Did you learn from it?"
Dean nodded again, wriggling to lean into her side. "Uh-hu. I'll set a better example next time, Mom. I promise."
Mary smiled, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "That's my boy. Why don't we get you some breakfast? Your brother'll need some food soon anyway."
Dean smiled up at her, putting his arms round her in a fierce hug. "Sounds good. Thanks, Mom."
John watched with a smile then sighed, running a hand through his hair. He got two aspirin out of one of the kitchen cupboards then got some milk and headed upstairs. Sam was lying on his bed, burrowed under a pillow.
"Hey, Ace. Your Mom sent something to take the edge off. How you feeling?"
Sam didn't answer, hoping if he didn't speak John would leave the painkillers and give him peace. No such luck.
"Come on, son. Up you get and take these tablets. They'll help."
"Don't wanna…"
"Tough. You wanna go drinking underage and in large quantities, you can deal with the consequences. Now sit up and do as you're told."
Sam huffed, swinging himself upright. "Jerk…"
"Oy, stop that." John ordered sharply, injecting a little steel into his voice. Sam winced, backing down quickly. He wished his Mom had come back up, she'd have been far gentler with him than John was. His dad was quite hard line when it came to him messing up, and he was feeling a little tender today. John could see the kid was feeling fragile and sighed, forcing himself to relax.
"Look, Sammy, I just want to look out for you and help you get better. You made some damned stupid choices yesterday, and believe me, we'll be talking about it later, but right now my priority is helping you beat the hangover. I remember having them as a teen, they suck big time. But I'm pretty pissed so it won't do you any good to start spitting bricks at me. We clear?"
Sam had the good grace to look sheepish, nodding slightly. "Sorry, Dad… I just feel crappy…"
"I know, kiddo. Your mom's making breakfast, food'll help. Take them then grab a shower, alright? Good boy."
Sam obediently swallowed the tablets his dad offered, gulping down some water. He stumbled to his drawers and tugged out boxers, sweatpants and an old hoodie, then headed for the bathroom. John sighed as he heard the bathroom door close, already ready for bed.
Sam took a while to settle, still feeling put out about the headaches and sickness he was feeling. Mary fielded most of his complaints, far more patient than her husband. John and Sam butted heads a few times over the course of the day and when John threatened to haul Sam over his knee for his attitude, Mary sent her husband upstairs to sleep.
John looked at her incredulously. "Excuse me?!"
"You're tired, Jonny. You were driving half the night and you were up with the sun this morning. I can look after Sammy just fine for a few hours. Dean'll help me, won't you?"
Dean nodded earnestly, keen to make things up to his Dad. John scowled stubbornly, not shifting. He hated it when Mary pulled rank on him, though luckily it didn't happen all that often. She was like a spitfire when she got going though and in those cases it was no use going up against her. He looked at her thoughtfully, weighing up his options. Eventually he rubbed his stubble, standing up and stretching.
"Alright." He turned to level Sam with a stern stare. "You better listen to your Mom or you and I will be having serious words, buddy."
Sam pouted, avoiding John's eye. He knew Mary would coddle him once John was sleeping, so wasn't worried about that. He didn't particularly want to wait for a hiding though, not when his Dad was silently seething at him. He managed a half-hearted nod, biting his lip. John nodded, squeezed his shoulder, and headed upstairs to lie down.
Mary got her son comfortable, sending Dean to get him some soda for energy. Sam gratefully accepted them, obediently curling up on the couch when directed to. He lay quietly, even when his mom and brother left him alone, but his mind was racing and he couldn't fall asleep for the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt sick, bit in a different way to how he had that morning. This was the stirring of gnawing guilt at having screwed up so bad…
He knew that he and his Dad riled each other up sometimes, and he knew he could be a bit of a brat when he didn't agree with his Dad's approach to things, but he still craved the older man's approval. He knew both his parents loved him, and desperately wanted to make them proud. Knowing his Dad was disappointed… He couldn't settle with the events of the previous night weighing between them.
He knew he'd catch hell for it from his Mom when she found out, but couldn't wait any longer. He slipped off the couch and rubbed his eyes as he snuck upstairs in search of his Dad. He wasn't sure if he was going to get his first taste of the belt but was really hoping his Dad might take pity on him. Either way, he needed to make amends. He tiptoes into the master bedroom, moving to stand at his father's side of the bed. Heart hammering in his chest, he tentatively reached out to shake his dad's shoulder. John grunted but didn't stir.
"Dad?" Sammy asked with a slight tremor in his voice, licking his lips nervously as he tried again. "Dad, wake up…"
John opened his eyes, looking up at his teenaged bleary eyed. "Sammy? What's going on?" He asked, worried his wife had sent Sammy up for misbehaving.
"C… Can we talk? Please…"
John raised an eyebrow, surprised, but sat up. "Sure, cub. What's up?"
"I… Um…. Canyoudealwithlastnightnow? The wait is k…killing me…" Sam stammered out in a rush, immediately looking down at the bedspread by John's hand. John reached out a hand to tilt his son's chin up and catch his eye.
"You sure about this? Once we start this talk, there's no going back."
Sam gulped. "I know… But I can't sleep knowing you're mad… Please?"
John nodded, understand that feeling fine well. "Alright…" He pulled Sam closer so the kid was between his spread legs, looking up at him expectantly. Sam bit his lip. "Spill, champ. I want you to tell me the truth about last night."
Sam stuttered out a story, trying to leave out as many details as he could. He'd never been good at lying though, he was far too sensitive, and John could see the discrepancies in his story easily.
"Ow! Dad…"
"No more lies, Sammy. Now, how much did you drink? I know you had more than beer."
"Uh… Cider too? Ow!" Sam jumped as John swatted his son's thigh.
"And..?"
Shit. His dad knew. How the hell did Dad know he'd stolen the bottle of Jack from the kitchen cupboard of his friend's house and played Ring of Fire with it? Dad would kill him if he admitted that…
John watched a number of different emotions flit across his son's face, eventually ending with panic. John's first instinct was to speak sharply to get a response, but he realised that wasn't what his boy needed just then. He forced himself to relax his pose -just like his training had taught him- and lowered his voice.
"Hey, look at me" He ordered calmly, waiting until Sam glanced at him nervously. "Whatever else you took, you can tell me. You know you can talk to me about anything Sammy. Now, whatever bad choices you made, nothing's too bad for your Mom or I to forgive. Okay?"
Sam nodded mutely, looking relieved. "Um… Well… It was just a game, Dad, I swear!"
"What was?" John asked calmly.
"We took Gina's Dad's whisky, for Ring of Fire… we were only gonna taste it, but we got distracted…"
"I see. Did you have a lot?"
"Kinda. I won the shots…"
John frowned. "Shots?"
"It was only a few… But I won!" John heard the the pride in his youngest child's voice and barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was going to kill the boy standing in front of him with his bare hands at this rate.
"That's not something to be proud of, kid."
"Oh, shut up… Like you and Dean haven't done it before, you fucking hypcr—ahhh!" John had Sammy bent over his knee in seconds, swatting down firmly on his kid's squirming backside. Sam barely had time to protest and kick before he found himself upright again.
"Don't you dare talk to me like that, Sam. You do that again and I'll be swatting your bare butt. Now, you're right. I did similar in the marines, but you better believe I got called on it plenty. As has your brother. I've laid into him plenty of times for drinking underage and it was never pretty. Sammy, I'm so disappointed in your choices. I thought I could trust you boys to behave for your Mom and look out for her. Instead you've lied to us, been mighty disrespectful, been totally dishonest and have outright disobeyed me. That's not a good start to the weekend, is it?"
Sam swallowed miserably, shaking his head. He could hear the disappointment evident in John's voice, and bit his lip to stop tears from falling. "No, sir…"
John sighed. He hated seeing his boys upset. He knew he needed to make an impression on the kid though, because things could have turned out much worse.
"Alright, son. Let's get this over with. You grounded this week, and I'm taking your phone…" Sam opened his mouth to protest but John help up a hand to quiet him. "You're also going to get a spanking. You really messed up last night, cub."
"But… Can't you…"
"No, I can't. You ignored all our rules last night, Sam. This is serious. I would hate to see anything happen to you, so I need to find a way to get through to you and protect you. I know you really hate getting your ass handed to you, but I think this calls for it. If you co-operate though, I'll let you keep your boxers."
Sam looked relieved. He hated getting his bare butt smacked. "Thanks…" He mumbled. "Is there more?"
"Only that you'll have extra chores while you're at home and I'd better see you do 'em. If you can behave for me, that's all. Now, lose your pyjama pants and bend over the bed."
Sam bit his lip. Usually Dad let him go over his knee, at least for a while. He did as he was told though, hoping not to invite more.
"Dad?"
"Yes, Sammy?"
"You gonna use your belt?"
"No. You can thank your brother for me talking me out of that. I am going to paddle your disobedient rump though."
Sam gulped. "Oh… Um… Do I get a w…warm up?" He asked hopefully.
"Not today, champ. I want to make sure I really get your attention so we can avoid all this next time. Come on, bend over..."
John fetched the solid wooden paddle he'd made with his Dad when he was thirteen, holding it in his hand. There was no doubting it stung like the blazes, he knew that fine well, but he also knew how efficient it was. He readjusted it in his hand then out a hand on Sam's back. Sam clenched his cheeks nervously, reaching for a pillow.
John didn't leave him waiting long. Sam gasped as the first sincere swat landed, quickly losing his bravado as his Dad landed sharp, well placed smacks across his backside. Sam was slim and tall, so the paddle easily covered both cheeks. The teen howled as the paddle fell again and again on his sore bottom, quickly losing count of how many swats he'd received.
John hated hearing him cry and almost stopped early but forced himself to man up. His son had made a lot of poor choices and the mechanic knew how much Sammy held onto things if left undealt with. He was determined to let his son feel the slate was clean while also ensuring Sammy learned from the consequences.
"Sammy, listen to me… I don't want to hear you've tried anything like this again, especially if I'm away. I know how keen you were to go last night, but I has reasons for saying no. I know how tempting it is to go to these things and experiment, and I don't blame you for it. It's natural, and all teenage boys want to. But I wanted to be at home, to make sure you were safe and could get home in one piece. Walking home in that state's dangerous. You can fall or encounter someone you don't really want to. Can you see that?"
Sam nodded mutely, sniffing and crying hard. "Owww! Dad I'm sorry! Won't do it again!"
"Good. Because if you go behind our backs again for something like this, I'll paddle you and then put you over my knee before you go to bed. And if I catch you lying again, you will dislike the consequences. This doesn't happen again. Are we clear?"
"Owwww! Yessir!"
"Alright, I'm nearly done. Four more." John kept going until he'd landed seventeen swats, then put the paddle down out the way. He debated fixing Sam's sweatpants but eventually tugged them off Sam's long legs before pulling him into a fierce hug. Sam threw himself into the embrace, crying hard. John listened to his tearful apologies, hushing him gently and brushing his floppy bangs out of his eyes. Eventually, the fifteen year old's tears slowed, but he refused to let John out of reach. John chuckled when he yawned widely, exhausted.
"How you holding up squirt?"
"'Kay…"
John smiled sympathetically. Poor boy was exhausted. He seemed much calmer though, despite his exhaustion and no doubt smarting bottom.
"Good boy. Come on then, into bed."
"But… Don't go…"
"Shhh, I'm not. I'm to rest too. Just lie down, alright?" John lay down beside him, grinning when Sam wriggled closer and curled up against him. Sam yawned contentedly and closed his eyes, quickly falling asleep. John listened to his breathing to satisfy Sammy was okay, eventually closing his own eyes and letting sleep overtake him with relief.
That was how Mary found them when she went up to fetch something an hour later. She stopped with a grin on her face watching them for a moment. John sure could be grizzly, but he was incredibly gooey on the inside. She shook her head fondly and went down in search of Dean, hoping to spend some time with her biggest boy while the house was quiet.