Sorry for the wait everyone! I've already started writing the next chapter so I should have it up shortly. Thanks for reading; please review! I hope you don't think John's punishment for Chris was too much. Sorry if I offended anyone.

"Ow; what the hell??" Chris bitched as he reached to rub the sting from his behind. He took a step back from the couch; his face glowing red with embarrassment at getting smacked like a child; and in front of his family nonetheless. He was almost fifteen for God sakes.

John's eyes bore into both of them as he made his way over to the couch. He turned his frustrations on his son first. "Wha'd I tell you about movin; huh? he admonished as he loomed over Dean; the grimace of pain on his kid's face not going undetected. He reached down and not so gently tugged up his shirt, roughly slapping Dean's hand away when he attempted to reclaim his clothing like a modest pre-teen girl. John was relieved to see that no stitches were pulled but the area was still raw and now; much to his chagrin, irritated. Yanking the shirt down again John straightened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well?"

Annoyed at himself for losing it with his kid and having his personal space violated for the second time that afternoon Dean shifted himself into a sitting position. "Well nothin; we were just talkin."

"How very "Mr. Brady" of you Dean; threatening to whack the shit out of your kid; real nice." Sam said obnoxiously as he passed by the trio overloaded with testosterone on his way to the bedroom. There was no way he was getting in the middle of this one. That was for sure.

"How very Mr. Brady of you." Dean shook his head as he mimicked back at Sam. "Why don't you shut your cakehole; Bitch. Only chicks like you watched that stupid show." Dean hollered towards the door.

"Oh right; like you didn't scream out Marsha's name in the middle of every freakin night for two solid weeks straight; Jerk!" they all heard just before the click of the door. Dean dropped his head on the back of the couch and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. He made a mental note to beat the snot out of Sam once his side healed; a smirk forming on his face thinking of Marsha; man that chick was hot!

Still feeling the sting Chris sidled himself up next to his Grandfather hoping for some sympathy. "Talkin my ass; you hit me you tyrant!" he blurted out showing his usual teenage restraint.

"Yeah; well; you shot me you brat. I think I'm entitled." his father immaturely shouted back.

Chris threw his arms up in the air; didn't they already go through this??? "I said I was sorry already; jeez dad; grudge much?"

Dean looked as though he was ready to take another swing when his father intervened.

"Ok, that's enough" he said impatiently. "We don't have time for this. Dean put your damn feet back up on that couch and lay back. Chris; go start dinner and quit acting like a brat. Bobby? Mind given him a hand in the kitchen? I need a minute here."

"When the hell did I become your wife?" Bobby interjected making his way towards the kitchen. Truth be told he loved to cook; especially for the boys; but he'd be damned if he gave John Winchester the satisfaction of knowing that. "Come on kid" he said pulling Chris into a playful headlock. "Let's go have some fun and put gross stuff in your grandfather's chili."

"Cool; can we do Dad's too?" the teen said loud enough for Dean to hear. John shook his head and smiled down at Dean. "I'll be damned if that kid ain't just like you when you were his age; they're right when they say paybacks a bitch." He teased before switching to all business. You tell him yet he's not goin tonight?"

Dean smiled back for a second before his eyes clouded over. "Nah; not yet; figured I'd save the fireworks for after dessert. Hey Dad; about tonight…"

"No." John replied simply as he turned back towards his research.

Dean's eyebrows shot up taken aback. "What do you mean No? You don't even know what I was gonna ask." He complained; his tone mirroring that of his son's when he wanted something and couldn't get it.

John gave him a knowing look. "Son, I'm your father. I've seen that look a thousand times and I know you better than you think and the answer is no; you're not coming tonight; end of discussion."

"I wasn't gonna ask that." Dean griped; damn his old man was good.

"Mmm hmm" was the only response he received.

"Well I wasn't!" He pouted gently twisting on the couch and pulling the blanket up close to his chin. Concussions and getting shot sucked.

An hour later the smell of chili wafted throughout the room. The boys all loved Bobby's home cooking and the attention he put into every little detail. Chris had rejoined his dad in the living room; his temper in check for now and the earlier incident between the two seemingly forgotten. Sam had rejoined the family and was sitting with John at the small table and Bobby was still in the kitchen slicing some cheddar cheese and putting the final touches on dinner.

Dean elbowed Chris and gave him a wink his eyes twinkling with mischief before shouting out to Bobby. "Hey Bobby. Whatch doin in there; 'm starving already."

"I'm just slicing the cheese for the chili; hold your horses already, it'll be done in a minute." Came the gruff response.

Dean was beaming; it was like taking candy from a baby. "Wha'd you say?" he asked motioning to Chris to turn down the volume on the T.V. trying to suppress a laugh.

"I said I'm in here cuttin the cheese!" Bobby bellowed before realizing what he said. A fit of immature giggles erupted from the den.

"Gross dude; don't forget to light a match!" came Dean's retort and even John couldn't help but smiling.

Sighing, the old hunter shook his head; those damn boys would never grow up and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't slightly happy about that. They kept him young and brought meaning to his life and he wouldn't trade that for the world. Of course he had a reputation to protect so he put on his usual show. "Shad-up ya idgits; wash up; dinners ready." he said poking his head out of the kitchen.

All but Dean began to make their way to the table for dinner; there stomachs rumbling in anticipation of a meal that did not come wrapped in paper or required the use of a microwave.

"No offense there Bobby; but your not really my type." Chris quipped as he read Bobby's "Kiss the Cook" apron front.

"Thank God for that." He heard his father say to no one in particular.

Dinner was for the most part pleasant. The only argument came from Dean when Sam swiped the last of the hot crescent rolls from the basket and blatantly shoved it in his mouth while Dean watched him from his spot on the couch. It wasn't until the dishes were clear and the talked turned back to the hunt that the conversation went south.

"What do you mean I'm not comin tonight? Who the hell's brilliant decision was that?" Chris shouted in disbelief upon hearing the news of his exclusion. His green eyes were full of anger as they darted back and forth between his father and his grandfather.

"Alright just calm down and listen." Dean tried but Chris was too far gone to listen to reasoning.

"NO; alright; you can't do this. I'm goin and no one here is gonna stop me!" He yelled spinning around and heading for the door. Dean tried to stand but John held out his hand indicating that he had it. Chris got all of two steps before John yanked him back close; his eyes were dark and menacing. Sam and Bobby both flew to their feet ready to intervene if the kid tried to bolt.

"You're not goin anywhere cept to your room." John's jaw was tight; a sure sign he was reaching the outer limits of his patience.

Chris either didn't notice the telltale sign or he didn't care. "Oh yeah? And what if I don't?" he challenged.

Sam's face scrunched with worry. The kid obviously had a death wish; you just didn't test John Winchester like that; ever. He knew from first hand experience that when you did it never ended well.

"Don't push me young man." John warned giving him a slight shake. "You have to the count of three to move your butt or I'm gonna carry you in there myself. One."

"How can I go anywhere with you holdin my arm?" The boy's tone was snotty full of disrespect.

"Christopher!" Dean's one word held two separate meanings 1) Boy you better watch your mouth and remember who you're talking to 2) What the hell's wrong with you; have you lost your freakin mind??? RUN!!

John silently scoffed at the kid's nerve and released his hold. Any fool could see where this showdown was headed and John was no fool. However, being the father of two boys he had plenty of experience with this game so he would play it out to the end; give the kid every opportunity to try and save him from himself. He must have been going soft in his old age because if Dean or Sam had ever mouthed off to him like that he would have belted their asses right then and there.

"Two."

The tension in the room skyrocketed as the boy stood his ground. His common sense clouded by his rage; he was not about to stand down. This hunt meant too much to him; he needed to be there to prove to himself and his family that he was a Winchester; a hunter. He needed to get revenge on the thing that made him shoot his own father. He needed to show them all that he was not just some child they could just dismiss whenever they wanted.

"You know what G?" he said narrowing his own eyes and squaring his shoulders. "Go..FUCK..yourself."

Dean closed his eyes in horror as his son sealed his own fate. Sure he had been expecting fireworks but he hadn't been expecting the mother of all Macy's Fourth of July day celebrations! If his kid lived to see another day he was going to have to get him tested. No one in their right state of mind would ever say that to John Winchester; especially not after being warned of the consequences.

The flurry of activity was immediate. "Dad, NO!!" Sam yelled trying to come to his nephew's rescue as Bobby grabbed him from behind and began dragging him from the room. "Dean!" he tried pleading as the door slammed shut.

John grabbed Chris and began to drag the now fearful, struggling teen into the other room. The boy was strong and spirited but he was no match for his grandfather and he immediately began to resent his decision to take him on. John was done fooling around and roughly hoisted the kid over his shoulder giving him a resounding crack on the ass.

Dean was on his feet a mix of emotions pouring through him. He was the boy's father and he should be the one to reprimand him. The kid had been warned, twice; and he deserved to be punished but Dean had plenty of experience with John's rendition of spanking and he wasn't sure if he wanted his child to experience what he knew he had coming or if he could handle it. On the other hand he physically couldn't do it and John was his father; he respected and trusted him. He knew he loved Chris immensely and wouldn't do anything that would truly hurt his kid.

"Dad?" he said his voice thick with emotion as unsure, pleading eyes watched John carry his son through the threshold.

"I got it Dean." John's voice sounded more annoyed than angry at the situation. He was clearly in full control of his emotions and he was going to soundly spank the boy as promised and nothing more. He slammed the door behind him with such force that it cracked open again and Dean could hear the sound of Chris being tossed on the bed and his father's belt being pulled from the loops.

He clench his eyes closed and his shoulders twitched as he heard the first swing land on his son's denim clad backside. Chris's cry of pain sliced through him. He heard the belt fall over and over again, each crack eliciting an excruciating howl from its target. It wasn't until the fifth strike that the "I'm sorry's" began and by the tenth all Dean could hear was sobbing. Even though he knew his son deserved every lick and then some, he couldn't help the single tear that slid down his cheek.