Sorry it's taking me so long to finish this story, been a hectic week and my muse seems to be writing a long story for now (which is actually quite exciting) so I'm going to post in 3 parts I guess. Enjoy!

By the time Dean's teacher left, I felt tired and frustrated as hell. I figured that I still had time to deal with Dean's nonsense without cancelling Sam's movie promise. When I went into the kitchen, both boys fell silent. I could practically feel the tension in the room and raised my eyebrows. As I expected, Sam broke first.

"Dad? Can I go choose my movie now? Dean sucks."

"Sure, buddy, that sounds like a good idea. As for Dean, he's not got a leg to stand on right now. What was he saying, Sam?"

Sam caught Dean's eye and looked intently at the table, shrugging.

"Samuel."

Sam gulped. He hated it when I used his full name. "He called me a bitch. Again! And he stole my ice cream…"

Dean huffed, giving his brother a shove. "Fuckin' hell, Sammy, you're such a snitch! You need to grow some balls."

"And you need to stop thinking with yours." I interrupted mildly, but with an underlying current of steel in my voice that had Sam freezing in his chair and Dean blushing furiously.

I cleared my throat meaningfully. "I'm going to eat my dinner, and then we're going to discuss your behaviour at practice while Sam showers. Then I may let you watch a movie with us since I promised Sammy. In the meantime, the crap stops. Do you pair understand me?"

Two identical nods greeted my announcement and I nodded in satisfaction before setting to work heating up my own dinner. I heard a few nudges and scuffles but let them slide. I needed a couple minutes to myself to calm down before I killed Dean, so the boyish actions didn't bother me. I knew it was just because Dean was nervous and Sam was worried about his brother's fate; I had a bit of a reputation with the boys and their newfound friends for being a bit of a hardass when it came to discipline. That didn't bother me; I took great pride in being the father that all the kids listened to. It was commonplace in the neighbourhood to land a few sturdy swats to the backside or thighs of the friends of your children. And boy, did those kids know I had no qualms doing that when it was deserved!

When I heard a clatter and a hissed curse at the table, I turned round in time to see Dean punch his brother while Sam grabbed a handful of Dean's hair.

"Owww! Deeeeeean!"

"Fucking twerp!"

"BOYS!"

Okay, so maybe raising my voice did work sometimes…Both boys went stock still.

"That is enough! Cut the shit before I put you both to bed now with sore backsides. Sam, ignore your brother and stop reacting to him. He's just huffing because he knows I'm pissed about what he did. Dean, stop swearing at your brother. He didn't tattle unfairly. I asked him a question and he told me the truth."

"But…"

"No. You boys know I expect you not to lie to me about these things. Your brother was just doing as he was told. Stop snapping at him just because you know I'm about to kick your ass. You have two minutes to finish your dinner, then I want you to find a corner until I'm ready to deal with you. We clear?"

"What? But, Dad… I'm nearly fourteen!"

"Doesn't make a difference to me, kid. You're my boy, and you know damn well what happens in our family when you screw up. So cut the crap, because I'm this…" I held my fingers up an inch apart, "Far from hauling your ass over my knee and teaching you a lesson in respect before we even deal with this afternoon."

That made Dean pause. He levelled me with a long look, then nodded slightly in acknowledgement of the warning. He'd tested me before when I'd made threats like that, and it hadn't been fun for either of us. I sighed heavily, glad he seemed to have settled, then turned my attention to Sam.

"Alright, Sam, you done? Go and choose a film then grab a shower and get ready for bed, alright? That's my boy. I'll holler when the coast's clear, make sure your homework's finished."

Sam nodded and gave me a quick hug, then scampered upstairs. I finished heating up my dinner, ignoring the silence that Dean was letting stretch out. We sat quietly for a while as we ate, but I could see how worried he was and decided not to make him wait. I usually tried not to leave things hanging over them. Hunting's a dangerous business, and I was painfully aware that every time I left them could be the last time I saw them— I didn't want to leave that kinda guilt hanging over them if anything happened to me. I watched Dean push his food around miserably on his plate, appetitite clearly gone.

I sighed to myself; I wasn't feeling too hungry myself just now. "Alright, Dean?"

Dean coughed nervously. "Mm?"

"You wanna tell me what the hell you were playing at tonight, son? Cause I sure as hell know I've raised you better than that."

Dean cringed under my strict gaze and stern tone. "uh… Dad, I… It was just some fun… It was her birthday, and…" He went quiet for a few minutes, huffing and squirming indignantly, but I could see he was trying to get his thoughts together so I waited quietly; my shoulders squared and my jaw set.

Eventually he spoke, sounding embarrassed. "Dad, I really like her… She'd mentioned, um, stuff, and I was just trying to make her birthday special. Her parents were both working late and she was pretty upset, so I just figured I'd give her something cute to remember. We've been on a few dates now, and it looks like we could be here a while, so maybe… Maybe I have a shot."

I sat silently for a minute, totally flabbergasted. Shit. Dean was falling for a girl. Like, not just some conquest. He was 13, for Christ's sake. I wasn't really sure what to say to my son, but it looked like this was his first love…Or crush. Something. I cleared my throat and adjusted my position in my seat, leaning forward with my forearms on the table.

"Dean… I understand you wanted to cheer her up. And I realise that you're not used to us staying in one place for a long period of time, but… This stuff isn't appropriate for kids your age. You can't just pull stunts like this because you think it'll be fun. I'm always reminding you not to draw attention to us, because otherwise we'll have to pack up and move, and then you won't get to see her at all. Don't you think that would suck for you both, pal?"

Dean looked at me in horror. "But Dad… She's awesome! You can't make us move! You're such a…"

"Can it, buddy. If you finish that sentence you'll end up with your tale bent over my lap. I didn't say we were moving, I said that if you're not careful we could run into problems. If the school gets concerned or suspicious, CPS could be onto me thinking I'm not looking after you."

"…Oh. Dad, I didn't mean to get you in trouble…"

"I'm not, kid, don't worry. But listen to me, and listen good; from now on, the only person doling out spankings –birthday or otherwise- is me. Or Uncle Bobby, or Pastor Jim. Adults I trust. Not teenage boys getting their rocks off or trying to show off. D'you understand me?"

Dean nodded, avoiding my gaze and blushing.

"I can't hear your head rattle, son."

"Yes sir. Sorry…"

"I should hope so. I wasn't impressed to get that call from your poor teacher. And now Grace's in trouble too, not a very smart move. You're grounded this week."

"What?! But dad, I…"

"I can make it two if you want to keep up the crap."

Dean huffed out a breath, glowering at the table with his fists clenched.

"Dean…"

"What? I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to. This is your last warning; cram the attitude or I up your grounding. I can find you plenty of chores to fill your time if I have to."

Dean groaned but wisely let his body language change so that it was less defensive. I nodded in approval, "Good choice, champ. Why you getting so antsy about it anyway? Usually you're the one I can count on to not fight with me tooth and nail."

Dean shrugged. I could see he was embarrassed so reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "Hey. Look at me, Dean… Better. You can tell me about anything, you know that?"

Dean nodded. "I know… It's just that I kinda said I'd take Grace out, for her birthday. I know money's tight and stuff, but… I thought maybe I could sneak some out the kitty and pay it back next week if I did some jobs round… Cause you'd never know… Shit, m'gonna shut up now…"

Dean trailed off when he saw my expression. "I think that would be a smart choice, son. So, what, you were going to steal from out family? Damn it, Dean, you know I leave that money in the fund for emergencies."

Dean swallowed nervously. "I know. I was gonna…"

"Pay it back, I know. Not only were you going to take money that could be needed if things went to hell, you were going to lie to me about it! Did you even stop to think I might have let you have the money if you'd asked me and told me the truth?"

Dean blinked in surprise. Evidently he hadn't even thought of asking me. I sighed heavily. "Son, you have no idea how disappointed I am. I need to be able to trust you when I'm away, and at home. Next time, you come and speak to me. Do you understand me, Dean?"

Dean nodded sincerely. "Yes sir," He mumbled. "Dad, I'm sorry…"

"Not as sorry as you're gonna be. Go get your Mom's hairbrush for me." Dean's eyes widened and he blushed furiously. I hadn't used the wooden backed hairbrush my wife had owned on him in a couple years or so. Generally I paddled him when he screwed up, now he was a teenager. But damn it, he'd acted like a little boy, so I was damn well gonna treat him like one. I forced myself to steel my resolve. "It's in the drawer by my bed. Go on, Dean, I don't want your brother listening to this."

That got him moving. I waited until he scrambled for the stairs, then sighed heavily. What was I gonna do with him? I swear, one day these boys'll be the death of me… I heard footsteps clattering down the stairs and downed the last of my soda before squaring my shoulders. Thankfully, the shower was running so I didn't have to worry about Sam waltzing in at a bad moment. Kid could spend hours daydreaming in the shower, he and Dean racked up one hell of a water and electricity bill sometimes…

Dean reappeared a moment later, looking like he was marching to his death. I held out a hand for the brush, placing it on the table beside me after a moment. It felt good and solid in my hand, and for a few seconds I allowed myself to remember the feel of it in my hand as I brushed Mary's hair when the kids were in bed. I sighed, recognising signs of Dean's stubborn-as-a-mule body language.