WBY – Generations
Characters: Sam, Dean, Jamie, and River. OC
Summary: Jamie's bored + the folks are gone = trouble.
XXX
Late summer at the Winchester place was always a little sluggish compared to any other time. Oh they trained, and ran and sparred, but it was at a slower place. Dad said he thought it was 'cause Gramps hated the heat, always had since his stint in Vietnam. River had never known Gramps as a young man but even now, many years after the war, John had been known to throw a Vietnamese curse word out in the heat of the summer. Even then it only occurred when the humidity was unusually oppressive and when something dumb happened like he dropped a hammer on his foot.
But today River was enjoying the heat and the doing nothing. He, Jamie and JR Banner lay on a raft in the middle of the pond on their property. It was wooden, built by all the Winchesters a few years back. They'd all laughed when Uncle Sam had insisted on indoor out door carpeting on it, but even River had to admit he was happy it was there because splinters on his junk was not something he was willing to risk. Jamie had laughed at River and the junk thing. They sometimes swam naked in the pond. It would only take one inopportune splinter to cause a boy a significant amount of grief.
They'd all readily agreed with Uncle Sam and installed the carpeting forthwith.
River sighed and trailed an arm in the pond. The only thing that could make this better was a beer. But River wasn't an idiot. Sometimes his folks would allow the boys a beer but the caveat was allowed and it was always with supervision. There was no supervision today as all three of the Winchesters were gone on a three man hunt.
JR's dad was around, but the boys were all sixteen; hardly unable to take care of themselves. Sheriff Banner was at work and yeah, he could be here in a heartbeat. Not that anyone would call him. Nope, just three boys and a raft.
"So," Jamie began, "What's on the agenda for today?"
"This." River answered easily. He was enjoying his lack of Winchester involvement. No one yelling to keep his guard up or run another lap.
"Come on, Riv. This is cool and all but well, it's kinda boring."
"Boring's fine. I'm okay with boring." River rolled over languidly on his back feeling the warm Texas sun on his face.
"What about you, JR? Wanna go do something?" Jamie queried his best friend, River amended the thought in his head, well other than him.
JR turned to face his cousin. "Nope. I may not live with you guys, but I know that 'boring' speech from you, Jamie. It always ends with us in trouble and usually one or all of us getting our ass beat. – So no, I think the raft is fine."
River wanted to high five JR but it was too much effort, "Atta boy, JR. You give him hell."
"C'mon boys." Jamie protested, "We have no parents around, except you JR, and well your dad is doing police stuff…"
"Doesn't mean he won't stop doing police stuff and come here and kick our asses." JR remarked sagely.
River nodded in agreement feeling the sweat drip down his face onto the ugly green carpeting.
"He's not gonna kick our asses. We don't even know if we are going to do something worthy of an ass kicking." Jamie protested.
With this River sat up, "If it's your idea, then we are probably gonna get our asses kicked. I, for one, don't want to sleep on my belly tonight. I fucking hate sleeping on my belly."
JR muttered a sound that was probably an agreement but he was on his belly now and muffled by the carpeting and his own arm. There was what River thought was a discernable, "Yeah, in more ways than one." But River could have been wrong.
Apparently, Jamie decided to let it go for a few moments. River enjoyed the blissful quiet.
"You know boys, I heard of a haunted barn in Bakersfield."
"Shut up." That was JR.
"Oh come on, JR. You've always wanted to come on a hunt. This is some old farmer who's grain didn't germinate or something. Easy peasy. "
Unfortunately, this seemed to get JR's interest and for that River was extremely worried. Against Jamie, he stood a chance, if JR started to side with him, well things were shaky at best.
"Guys, look…JR is awesome but he's not a hunter. You know this Jamie, we can't bring him on a hunt, even a baby hunt." River tried to sound authoritative.
"Dude," Jamie countered, "Every one has a first hunt and look at JR. He's good with a gun, knows how to cover our backs, he won't rat us out and he's been bitching for three years that he wants to hunt with us."
"True, " River acknowledged, "but neither, Dad or Uncle Dean or his Dad seem willing to let him go so why should we do it?"
Jamie grinned all bright teeth as he stood up on the raft. He nodded to JR, "Cause we can." With that Jamie dove off the raft and sliced cleanly into the water.
XXX
River knew he had no hope of changing their minds. Jamie was like a dog on trail. And JR had been bugging them forever. So he followed Jamie and JR up to the house, toweling off on the way and hoping upon hope that Sheriff Banner or hey, even one of the Terrible Trio had shown up while they were swimming.
No such luck
Jamie was in hunter mode. All business when he hit the back door. "Boys, we can do this. Simple salt n' burn. Just two towns over and then we will be back before midnight."
JR practically danced at the thought of a hunt. Apparently, the boy had been thinking about this far too long.
"Are we gonna see a ghost Jamie?"
He sounded like a little kid.
"Maybe, but I doubt it. I already know where the grave is and I wasn't joking about lack of germination. The guy died starved to death 'cause his crops failed. All he does is steal food from his neighbors. There's been an apparent increase in someone stealing pies that are set out to cool, whatever. Dude isn't angry or belligerent, just fucking hungry."
"Sounds like you researched this pretty well." River noted.
"Yeah, been thinking about it for a while. You know, a perfect first case for JR and well, good practice for you and me."
"What are we? The fucking Hardy Boys?" River couldn't help but sound sarcastic.
"No we are the Winchester boys," Jamie nodded toward JR, "Plus one – a Banner. The Three Amigos instead of the Terrible Trio. It's gonna be great. Salt and burn, gank the thing and be back before anyone knows we are gone."
"Why wouldn't you just tell our Dads about this? " River asked.
"Because, they would make sure we go with them. They would never let us hunt on our own. I want to prove we can hunt by ourselves. The new generation of Winchesters out there, saving people, hunting things. But damn, River, you know what they are like."
River nodded. Jamie was right. Their parents would never let them hunt unsupervised and there was always a first time for everything. Besides, Jamie must be pretty damn sure about this ghost or he would never have included JR in the plans. JR had been bugging Jamie to hunt before River even came into the picture. The answer was always the same. No. JR had even tried to convince the elder Winchesters to let him come along. All three adults and JR's own father had told him he was not hunting no matter what. River sort of understood what it was like to be told that you couldn't do something, especially something your best friends did all the time.
JR wasn't a Winchester but he wasn't a coward either. It didn't matter he had River and Jamie with him.
XXX
"Didja see?" JR exclaimed. "Didja see me shoot that fucker?"
River grinned. "Yup, you nailed him!"
"Of course all he was doing was trying to throw a blueberry pie at you but…" Jamie howled with laughter.
"True." JR explained with mock severity "But blueberry is a bitch of a stain to get out!"
River almost fell over with laughter. This hunt had been, without a doubt, the funniest thing he had done in years. The old farmer ghost had been a nut cake and really and truly threw pies. Fruit pies that he'd stolen from the neighborhood ladies. Jamie had ducked an apple and River had gotten some peach cobbler in his hair but other than that the salt and burn went perfectly.
They were all a little sore, digging graves did that, no matter how easy the ghost was to gank but they were in high spirits and laughing all the way to the truck.
JR stumbled just a bit over a root in the dark, he giggled then "I can't wait to do this again."
From the shadows came a voice, "Not a good idea."
JR stopped abruptly, "Dad?"
"Dads." Came the reply but this time it was three men that the boys heard.
"Oh, shit." That was Jamie. Leave it to his cousin to put it as eloquently as possible.
"Pretty much." That was Uncle Dean's voice. Then through the early morning fog, his uncle, his father and JR's dad stepped into view.
River wanted to kill himself. How did they find out? What could have possibly give them away?
"Dad, I… " JR stuttered. For a kid who wasn't afraid of ghost he apparently was afraid of his father.
"Can it." Was all Sheriff Banner said.
"Mr. Jeff, this is all a misunderstanding." That was Jamie. How in the hell he thought he could pull "misunderstanding" off was beyond River. They were covered in pie, had dirt under their nails from digging a grave, Jamie and JR held shotguns that had obviously been recently fired and River was carrying a shovel.
Not a snipe hunt.
"Boys, " That was Uncle Dean. Uncle Dean had a voice that rivaled Gramps. "Don't even play that game – especially you Jamie, 'cause we are not gonna tolerate it. I am not gonna tolerate it."
Jamie looked like he might say something else. But he didn't. River did though. He surprised the hell out of himself.
Why? River had no idea. It wasn't going to help him, Jamie or JR out but maybe he'd been hanging around Jamie and his smartass attitude just a little too long.
Maybe he was just tired.
Or maybe still feeling the rush from the hunt.
"Why do you always gotta think the worse? Maybe we just ate some pie? Planted some trees to offset deforestation, or hey what about shooting pies like clay pigeons? Coulda happened."
Two boys and three men turned their eyes on River. There were varying degrees of shock and at least one Winchester narrowed his eyes in a darkened scowl.
Dad.
"Do you think this is funny, River?," Dad growled low. It wasn't a typical Sam sound – his father was the gentlest of giants and almost always soothed when he spoke. Now though, his voice rumbled low like Gramps.
It worried a boy.
"No," River back pedaled verbally, "It's just we are all fine. It was great. We did an awesome job, no one got hurt and we ganked a ghost. We handled it, Dad. And we did a great job. So guess what? All of the training has paid off. Why not give us a mutual pat on the back?"
"Oh there's gonna be some patting go on, but your back isn't going to be the recipient."
River tried to stand up tall. It was hard when you were sixteen and being threatened with a spanking. Well, it wasn't a threat, it was a promise and it was not like Jamie and hell, even JR weren't in for the same thing. But he was right! They'd done good. Even JR had been steady as a rock and they'd saved someone tonight. Well, maybe just their pies, but the premise was the same.
"Look at us!" River found himself yelling, "We really are fine!"
River ignored the solid elbow of Jamie as his cousin jammed him painfully. He couldn't miss Jamie's whispered words though, "Not for long."
Dad pointed a finger at River. "You, on my six." Then he turned to the adults in the group. "Can you guys figure out driving home arrangements without me? River and I are taking the truck home."
They nodded tersely and River's eyes got wide.
"Sorry, Riv." Jamie stood next to him, shoulders square but he spoke only quietly enough for River to hear.
Suddenly JR raised his arm, fists clenched, "Power to the people, my man."
River heard the cuff of Jeff Banner and the corresponding yelp from JR but that was all as he followed his father to the truck.
XXX
They sat for a moment in the red truck, Dad fuming and River almost doing the same. River glanced in the rear view to see Uncle Dean and Sheriff Banner still verbally reaming out his cousin and friend. Then he settled his eyes back on the dash of the old red Ford.
River took a deep breath and tried to control his anger. It wasn't possible.
"I don't know why you are so mad. We are only doing what you trained us to do."
There was nothing from his father – just the slow in and out breathing of a man trying to calm himself.
"No one got hurt! Damn it, Dad. We are sixteen, we can drive on our own, hell – I think in Texas we can even get married! Why the hell can't we hunt by ourselves?"
"Because hunting kills people!" Dad roared. "It's killed some of my best friends! Supernatural shit killed my mother. This is not a fucking game! I am not going to lose my son to a fucking ghost just because he can't follow orders."
River felt pretty sure the rest of his family and the Banners standing not ten feet away from him heard the bellow.
His father's hands shook as he turned the keys in the ignition.
River shut up.
They drove for a while in silence. They were only two towns away from home, but Texas towns aren't always right next to one another. They had at least forty five minutes before the farm when his father pulled over on the side of the road and turned off the truck.
River looked quizzically in his direction.
"Get out."
"Huh?"
"What did you say?"
River frantically changed his reply. "Sir?"
He was in deep shit. His dad wasn't the military one in the group, Gramps held that particular title. Uncle Dean usually was pretty laid back too, but not always. Jamie tended to yes, sir and no, sir without even thinking about it. River did around Gramps, because the man had a thing about it.
So if Dad was pushing the sir thing this early on in their conversation…well things were looking bad for River.
River decided to opt for obedience and jumped out of the truck. His father followed just as quickly and grabbed him by the shirt, yes he had a shirt collar – he preferred collared shirts to Jamie's typical tees and drug him to the front of the truck.
"Drop 'em."
"Huh?"
"RIVER!" His father bellowed.
"SIR!" River snapped. While not as loud it was certainly heartfelt.
"I said drop them!"
River scrambled to comply. He couldn't quite wrap his head around it though. Was his father really gonna beat his ass on the side of the highway. Granted they were pulled off but dayum.
Still he dropped his jeans, leaving his shorts on.
That didn't appear to matter though, 'cause his father yanked them down displaying River's very white, very pristine ass.
Which was not to remain white or pristine for very long.
Dad slammed his big old tree sized hand onto River's ass. The first spank pushed him in the direction of the hood of the truck. The second drove him into it as his father tipped him down over the hood.
The hood was warm, though not hot, still he could feel the engine under his shirt and the warmth up against his groin. Which was unpleasant but not really painful. Not like the hard hand that was spanking the hell out of his ass.
Which was incredibly painful.
River tried to slide out from under his father, but his dad's left hand held him tightly to hood while his right did a number on his ass. Wasn't that fast Spanish number called a flamenco? That's what it was, his father was dancing the flamenco on his ass. It rushed crazily through River's mind that must be were the name came from. Flame. As in flaming ass. Then he cursed himself for the incredible worthless amounts of stupid knowledge he had running around in his brain. Knowledge that made him know what a flamenco dance was but not how to avoid getting his ass beat.
"Dad!" River tried once. But just once. Because the result was for his father to pick up the pace, as if the word just drove home how important this ass whipping was.
So River gave up. Gave up trying to talk and just focused on not crying like a baby. Which was hard to do, given the fact that Sasquatch was pummeling on his bare ass. Finally he gave up on that too.
So he just cried with his head between his arms, not even trying to move off the truck or trying to get away. He couldn't so why bother?
Finally his father stopped spanking. River reached down, pulling up his boxers as he stepped away from the truck. He pulled up his jeans too, even though they hurt like hell. He even button and zipped all the way up, something he usually chose not to do.
His father had settled with his hip on the front panel truck, facing the highway. River wiped his eyes and settled next to him but as close to the front of the truck as he could get, allowing only his hip to touch the truck and his ass to touch as little as possible. He was also as close to his father as he could get, their hips touching, his right hip against his father's left.
They just stood there for a moment, River collecting himself and watching as the occasional headlights as they traveled down the road. It was too far away to tell, but he wondered if one of them was Jamie and his Uncle Dean.
It was then that River noticed his father was crying.
"Dad?"
His father used his right hand to wipe away his tears. But it didn't stop them and he didn't seem embarrassed by them anyway.
"Dad?" River tried again.
"Yes, son." His father's voice was low and soft. But clear despite the tears still streaking down his face.
River shuffled his feet in the gravel. "Dad, why are you crying? I mean I get why I'm still crying but you?" River was almost done crying but obviously his father was not.
His father kept his eyes on the road. "Jesus, River." Then he turned to River. River looked up to meet his dad's eyes.
"I could've lost you tonight."
River was quiet a moment, still a bit puzzled. "But you didn't."
Dad pushed back further on the truck. River could hear the slight creak of metal as the old red truck accommodated his father's bulk. His father looked back toward the highway, apparently trying to collect his thoughts.
"You know, River. When I was your age, I hated Gramps. Not even lying, kiddo. Not a belligerent, angsty, teenage, 'I hate you!' but hate…really. I hated training, I hated sparring, I hated hunting…and yeah I hated him. I hated the rules and the orders. I hated yes, sir and no, sir. I hated oh five hundred runs. I hated late night hunts and missed school. I hated getting my ass kicked when I disobeyed him. I hated everything about my life and at the top of the hate pyramid was my dad. "
Dad stopped to let that sink in a bit.
It was a revelation. River didn't hate his father, his uncle or Gramps. He didn't particularly like getting his ass roasted but no kid did.
"And you know kiddo, Dad didn't seem to care. Oh, I suppose I hurt his feelings sometimes but he just blew it off. At the time, I could have cared less. Why would I care about hurting someone I hated? I fought with him and against him. I pushed him at every turn and looking back now? Well, I'm lucky he didn't kill me. I mean, there were so many times when he should have just tanned my hide and he didn't. Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of other times he did – but the self restraint that I can see how now that he showed was pretty remarkable. Considering me and considering him." His father chuckled low, "We butted heads over everything."
"Some of it was me just wanting to be out from under his thumb. A lot of kids are like that – I get in now and that part I understood even then. Growing up means breaking away and sometimes just fighting with your parents because they are your parents. Part of it was how much I despised what we did, even though I knew it was important, I couldn't stand having to be the one called to do it."
River wasn't crying anymore and even his father looked like the trip down memory lane had stopped him as well.
There was a change in his father's voice, a conviction that wasn't there before, "But now – Now that I have you- I understand it all. I mean I stopped hating Gramps long before you came along. I reconciled myself to some things. I grew up. But you? You changed everything. Now, well now I know exactly how he felt. The need to keep you safe is overwhelming. It's like I can't breathe sometimes. But it doesn't change that we are hunters. It doesn't stop evil. It doesn't make our job go away. It just means you have to be as prepared as possible to do a job that is so fucking dangerous, that no one would willingly do it. Unless they had to. And we have to."
Dad stopped again. Took a deep breath and looked at River again.
"I can't pretend it's not there. I can't pretend that I can't save people. Fathers and sons have lived this legacy of hunting before you were born. Hell, before I was born. It's tough, it's horrible and it's no way to live but the fugly shit is out there and there are just a handful of people who know. And we can't un-know it."
River thought about that a minute. It had never occurred to him before, that he was part of a legacy of hunters that came even before there were Winchesters.
"We need to hunt because the bad stuff out there isn't going to go away. And it knows who we are, so we can't hide, even if we wanted to. Winchesters are marked as surely as if there was a fucking bulls eye on each one of our chests. Shit is gonna come after you as hard as you are gonna come after it. Which means you have to be ready. Which means I have to make you ready. Which means oh five hundred runs, and sparring and research and training. And following orders. Orders that include when your family feels that you are ready to hunt alone. Which you are not – I repeat NOT ready for."
River shifted on the truck, hissed a bit as his still tender ass nudged the hood, then a little sullenly stated, "But we did okay."
Dad sighed again, "Yes, and I'm proud of you for that. But you didn't follow protocol and you disobeyed your family. And you brought JR Banner into it. Whether or not JR ever hunts, is something his father will have to deal with that is until JR is old enough to decide himself. But if I were you, I would strongly encourage him not to hunt. Oh, being prepared is smart, being ready is a good thing but once you are a hunter, you can't really go back. JR should follow in his dad's footsteps – if that's what he wants. It's always good to have the police know what's going on and be on our side. Fighting both the cops and the evil shit makes it so much harder. Living in this town with Jeff on our side helps trendously."
Dad grinned, "Wasn't quite ready for this dissertation on hunting, Riv…I just wanted you to try to understand. Why it's so important for you to follow the rules and why I'm not gonna allow you to slack off." Softer than, almost a whisper, "Even if you wind up hating me."
River turned to his father and hugged him tight. Dad didn't seem completely prepared for it, but folded his arms around River easily. His dad smelled sweaty with a hint of fear just underneath. That scared River because Sam Winchester wasn't afraid of anything that River could think of. Except apparently losing his boy.
"I could never hate you, Dad. Never. I mean, I would really have not preferred to have my ass whupped on the side of the road. I kind of think that was uncalled for. We could have waited till I got home."
"Nope, that's something your Gramps taught me. Sometimes, it's best to just get it over with."
"So Gramps would spank you on the side of the road? "
"More than once. " Then Dad started counting off the places in his head, "Honestly, he never much cared where he whooped us. I mean, I don't recall him ever really handing down an honest to God ass whipping in front of random people. Although, he'd swat your butt once in a while and he did beat Dean's ass in front of Bobby once. Hell, he even offered to have Bobby whup on him some too."
River gulped. "That sounds pretty radical."
"Yeah, it was. I saw it all from the steps."
"Jeesh, that's skeevy."
"I wasn't trying to be skeevy, I was worried. But too scared to come all the down."
"Well, let's hope I avoid that one."
"Just say no to drugs and you should be fine."
"I'm not even gonna ask."
"Good boy. But if you decide to ask, ask your uncle, that's his story to tell."
"So are we good, Dad?"
"Yes, Riv, we're good. Let's head on home and make sure Jamie's still alive okay?"
River nodded and crawled back into the truck.
Yeah, his ass hurt like hell, but overall he was glad that Sam Winchester was his dad.
End.