A/N: There is a subtle spanking threat in this chapter, but not against who you might think.
Bobby and the boys come up with a rather unique way for John to show Sam he means business.
The sun came in through Bobby's window. John's eyes opened and he sat up automatically before he even woke up completely. He checked the clock and groaned. It was seven in the morning. He wondered if the boys ever realized that he hated getting up early just as much as they did. He would give anything to be able to sleep past eight in the morning. But the habit was so ingrained in him that there were mornings he would get out of bed, wake them up, and get them moving before he even fully realized he was awake himself. John decided the second he had a conscious thought that he'd let both the boys sleep as long as they wanted. It was a miniscule way to patch things up, but at least it was something.
But John found Sam and Dean's beds both empty. He started to wonder why until he smelled bacon. Bobby had made breakfast. John smiled; as gruff and tough as Bobby pretended to be, John knew he truly cared about him and the boys. John made his way to the kitchen, expecting to find Sam and Dean at the table. But the table was empty, the plate of bacon had only two small pieces on it, and Bobby was washing dishes at the sink.
"No breakfast for me?"
"I figured you could rustle some up for yourself." Bobby said, throwing a plate far too roughly onto the towel next to the sink.
John sighed. So, Bobby was still pissed. Hopefully he was the only one. "Bobby, the boys should be helping you with the dishes."
"Dean cooked, so I cleaned up. Only fair." Bobby replied. He finally finished and wiped his hands.
"Where are the boys?"
"Dean took Sam's prescription to the drugstore. Sam went with him. I gave them some money to go see a movie and take the day off if Sam felt up to it."
"Is that a good idea? The doctor said Sam straining that leg could make his healing harder."
"Which is why I told him that if he went out with Dean he had to use the wheelchair in the garage." Bobby said.
John smiled. "He agreed to that?"
"It was that or stay in bed all day."
John nodded, impressed. "Good."
"Yeah. Good." Bobby turned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now that they're gone, you can tell me what the hell you were thinking?"
"Bobby, please, I've already run through this with the boys…"
"The hell you have. You haven't even apologized to Sam."
"Yes, I did. He didn't take it, that's on him." John shot back, his already thin patience stretching to its limit.
"Are you telling me he doesn't have a point?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You made a stupid, amateur mistake." Bobby said. He knew he was ruffling John's nerves, but he didn't care. The man needed them ruffled. "You made a stupid mistake because you wanted to prove to Sam that you knew more than he did. That you were the big boss in charge. Well, look where that got him."
"Bobby…"
"Do I sound like I'm done?" Bobby asked. Though his voice was calm, he intimidated John, despite being two inches shorter than him. "That's one of the first things I ever taught you. Don't ever go into a hunt without being one hundred and fifty percent sure of what you're dealing with."
"I know that."
"Then why didn't you listen to Sam when he told you that this being a werewolf was too easy?" Bobby asked. "You're always complaining that Sam's heart isn't in this, and that he needs to work harder at it. He tries, and not only do you shut him down, but he gets hurt so bad he can't walk on his own."
"Would everybody stop throwing that in my face please?" John asked, irritated and his voice dangerously close to yelling.
"As soon as Sammy can walk on his own, and you'll admit to him that it was your fault, we'll think about it."
John turned towards the voice that hadn't been there just a few seconds before. "Dean."
"Dad." Dean turned towards Bobby. "Can Sam and I talk to you in the living room?"
"You don't want to talk to me?" John couldn't help but feel slightly insulted at being brushed aside.
"No, sir. I don't. But trust me, we will in a minute."
Bobby followed Dean to the living room, and John stood in the kitchen seething. He saw the three of them huddled together, and he wanted nothing more than to separate them and tell the two boys to pack up. But he was determined not to make the situation worse by taking Sam away from familiar surroundings. Sam strived for normal, and after screwing up so badly, it was the bare minimum he could do to show Sam he meant it when he said he was sorry. Sam was nodding his head and showing Bobby something in a book. Bobby smiled and ruffled Sam's hair, an easy, affectionate gesture that made John jealous. He turned to grab a beer out of Bobby's fridge when he was called into the living room rather rudely.
"Get your ass in here."
John wanted to snap back at Bobby, but he didn't. He held his tongue. He was rather proud of himself for how patient he was being at the moment. Bobby stood against the desk, arms across his chest all over again, but this time he was grinning. Dean stood next to him, and Sam sat in the wheelchair Bobby had provided for him. He didn't seem angry anymore, but John knew that Sam's silence could be deceptive.
"Okay. What's going on?"
"The boys have decided that since you made a dumb rookie mistake, you should have to face the consequences of it as if you were a rookie. I agree." Bobby said.
"What?" John laughed. Surely this was a joke. "That's not happening."
"I told you this wouldn't work." Sam said.
"Sam, I get it. I should have listened to you. I'm sorry I didn't. But it was a stupid mistake that I'll never commit again."
"And would that work with me?" Sam asked. "Dad, there's no way you would ever just take an apology from me. What is it you like to say? 'Sorry's not enough?' Well, sorry's not enough. This isn't about just holding this over your head, even though I do think if I did this and you or Dean got hurt you'd hold it over mine. But you're supposed to be teaching me and Dean how to do this. If you won't hold yourself to the same standard you do us, why should we listen to you?"
"Like you listen to me now." John scoffed.
Sam shook his head. "Forget it." He grabbed the sides of the wheelchair and started to push himself to the kitchen.
"Sam, wait."
Sam stopped but didn't look back at John. It took a monumental effort, but John knew Sam, Dean, and Bobby were right. He'd acted in a stupid way, and he deserved to be treated like a stupid rookie. Sam had every right to hold him accountable, and not take his apology until he'd really made it clear that he understood what he'd done.
"What do you want me to do?"
"That's more like it." Bobby said. "Sam, you go first."
"You're gonna research and tell me what it was we were dealing with."
"You said the exorcism that killed it. You already know what it was." John knew he shouldn't argue with Sam, but he couldn't help it.
"Yes, I do know what it was. Because I stayed up the night before and I did the research anyway. What I said wasn't an exorcism." Sam said. "But that's the only clue I'll give you."
"Okay. Agreed. I'll do the research." John said.
"That ain't even close to it." Bobby said. "You're not just gonna do that research. You're gonna write a report. Like you make the boys do. Tell us what it is, the strengths and weaknesses, the best way to kill it, everything. Sam, Dean, and I are checking over it. We don't like it, you do it again."
"Okay."
"You're also training. Every day. Minimum of three hours. With me, and, if he wants, Dean. You do what we say, when we say to do it. You don't do it the right away, or you slack off, you train longer."
"What is Dean gonna do?" John asked.
"Dean is taking some time off. So is Sam. Right now, the two of them and me are the senior hunters in this house. You have to earn the privilege of going out on hunts back." Bobby explained.
"So, I guess that means no hunts?" John asked.
"Until we fix this, you don't so much as salt and burn a ghost."
"Anything else?"
"Yeah. After you finish that report, and do Dean's assignment for you, you're running the phones for three days."
"Dean's assignment?" John asked.
"Dean?" Bobby said, inviting Dean to speak.
"Yes, sir. You're writing Sam a letter."
"A letter?"
"A letter. Clearly telling him what you did wrong, why it was wrong, what you should have done differently, and how you honestly feel about him and what he contributes to the family." Dean said. "After you write it, give it to me. I'll read it, and if I don't like it, it gets rewritten."
Damn it, John thought. He was surprised it was Dean giving him this assignment and not Sam. But he knew exactly why Dean was making him write to Sam rather than explaining himself verbally. John's default response tended to be anger. All too often, when John was worried about one or both of the boys, it came out as anger. Sam would then get angry in response, and they'd end up in a loop of arguing that would only cause them both more frustration. If he was forced to write down how he felt about Sam rather than talk to him, he might actually be able to get through to him.
"Agreed. Anything else?" John asked, hoping that really was all. He wondered how he would keep up with everything he'd been given to do, and was seriously considering cutting back on his punishments for the boys when they got in trouble.
"Yeah. One more thing. You complain at any point this week, I handle this the way you do." Bobby went from crossing his arms to putting both hands on his waist and tapping his belt. "In fact, I wanted to add that to this batch of stuff you have to do, but Sam asked me not to. Said he wanted you to learn something from this, not be embarrassed by it. So, I suggest thanking Sam for his graciousness."
John nodded. He honestly hadn't expected Sam to escape a chance to see John punished the same way he might have punished Sam for the same dangerous infraction. The boy truly was gracious. "Thank you, Sam. I mean that."
"Sure, Dad." Sam said. "Just…just do this. Please?"
"I will, son. I will."
"Well, let's get started then. Better go grab your breakfast out of the microwave and eat it. I'll meet you out back for training in fifteen minutes." Bobby ordered.
"Breakfast? I thought…"
"Boys, enjoy your day." Bobby said, cutting him off.
John smiled, grabbing his plate of bacon and eggs out of the microwave. Back to basics, I guess, he thought as he placed the plate in the sink and headed to the backyard.