Hey All. Welcome to Chapter two of Life as a Winchester. This is a more accurate representation of what to expect from this story, with Chapter one being an intro.
Whilst some plot elements will be included this will not follow the supernatural plot. It is a spanking story and most if not all added chapters will include spanking. Chapters will be added as I write them. There are lots of changes I make with this story and lots of things I throw in for fun, but it is mainly a discipline fic.
Chapter Summary: Whilst John's away the boys decide to disregard a very important rule believing 'Uncle Bobby' to be a soft touch. Unfortunately for the boys, Uncle Bobby think's Gun Safety is highly important. Contains spanking.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the recognized characters within. I just play with them for my own amusement.
Warning: This story contains spanking and will not follow many important plot points. Things will vary vastly from the Supernatural story we all know and love. Don't like
A big thank you to Jules Ann my wonderful friend and American sister for all her help and support and Beta-ing help. I know I wouldn't have been able to do this without you and this fic wouldn't be what it is without you!
~o~
For a year and a half John, the boys, and Jenny stayed at Bobby's Salvage Yard. Bobby showed John the ropes to hunting and then John and Bobby showed Dean.
During those eighteen months John and Dean changed. Bobby explained to John that every hunter had a weakness; John's weakness was his kids, therefore his kids needed to jump when he said jump and while jumping ask how freaking high. John decided he needed to make sure each of his kids could speak Latin. He started to treat his kids like soldiers, because they were now, soldiers in a war that civilians knew nothing about. Dean had lost that little piece of childhood innocence, with John pumping him full of knowledge of what was really out there he couldn't really hold on to that it. As it slipped away so did the normal childhood rebelliousness. He became the perfect soldier, yes Sir rolled off his tongue as easy as breathing. He could handle a gun like no one else. He threw himself into the PT with a drive rarely seen outside military fanatics. He was a machine. He was still a very recently turned nine-year-old child, who occasionally found trouble, but not in the way most nine-year-olds would.
Sammy didn't change. He didn't learn about the things that went bump in the dark. He learnt about gun safety and started learning about old myths, legends and strange lore, he learnt Latin and took to it like a duck to water. Sammy still had his innocence. He slept with Jenny every night, but he was a child. He threw temper tantrums. He complained about having to run around the yard even in the rain. He was wary of guns, knives, and matches. He didn't always remember to say yes Sir, he didn't know what to do when his Daddy got really angry, but Dean always stepped in then. Dean was Sammy's hero. Sammy protected Jenny, Dean protected Sammy and Daddy protected them all.
The rules that both Sammy and Dean knew, and Jenny was just about old enough to start learning were pretty simple; you do not lie to Dad or Uncle Bobby, gun safety is very important, you do as you're told when you're told. They were the three most important rules of living in Bobby's house.
Gun safety was not simple. It was drilled into Sammy and Dean and it was being drilled into Jenny, though she didn't really understand it yet. Gun safety was a long lecture; treat every gun as if it was loaded, do not ever play with a gun, if you pick up a gun check to see if there are clips in it or bullets in the chamber, know your gun, do not point your gun at anything you are not prepared to destroy, where you point your gun that's where the bullet's going to go, do not touch the trigger until you are prepared to shoot, you shoot something or someone you make sure you mean to kill it or them. If you ever break any of these rules sitting down will not be possible for a very, very long time.
Dean could recite the gun safety lecture backwards in his sleep. Sammy knew it off by heart and was starting to be able to recite it in Latin in his sleep he knew it so well. Jenny didn't really understand it all, but her rule was just to not touch the guns and she could recognize what a gun was.
"Sammy," Dean whispered.
Sammy was in his and Jenny's room reading a book. His head snapped up when he heard Dean and he held his finger to his lip. "Sshh, Dean, Jenny's sleeping," he informed his big brother.
Dean nodded. "Yeah, I know. You wanna play?" He asked.
Sammy glanced at his sister and nodded. "Yuh huh okay!" He scrambled up and hurried out of the bedroom he shared with Jenny. "What are we gunna play?"
"Cops and Robbers," Dean announced grinning. From behind his back, he pulled out two handguns.
Sammy's eyes bugged wide, and he glanced around worriedly expecting Daddy or Uncle Bobby to appear and strike them both down. "Dean! What? We're not supposed to play with the guns," he whispered shocked.
"It's fine, they aren't loaded. Uncle Bobby is busy in the study and Dad's hunting," Dean assured his brother in a quick hushed voice.
Sammy bit his lip, still unsure and stared at the guns nervously. "But we'll get in trouble Dean," he whispered.
Dean just grinned and shook his head. "No, we won't, it's Uncle Bobby, he won't get mad," he stated firmly.
Sammy glanced back at his sleeping sister then at his grinning brother. Dean didn't always want to play anymore, and he was getting a bit bored of reading. "They are empty?" He asked softly.
Dean nodded. "Yup, come on. You wanna be the cop or the robber?" He asked.
A small, excited smile appeared on the soon to be five years old's face. "I can choose?"
Dean gave his brother an excited grin and nodded.
Sammy jumped up, "I wanna be the cop!" He declared. He covered his mouth quickly and glanced at his sleeping sister, relieved to find she was still sleeping. "I wanna be the cop," he repeated quieter this time.
Dean shrugged. "Okay, but we should play outside so we don't wake Jenny."
Sammy nodded and both boys scurried outside, Sammy bouncing in excitement over playing with his big brother.
Dean offered his brother the choice of guns. "Okay, you gotta give me a head start," he told his little brother.
Sammy nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of the gun in his hand.
Dean took off running around Uncle Bobby's yard, dodging in and out of the junked cars, 'shooting' the empty gun as he went. There was no loud bang, just the click of an empty gun, but it was still fun.
Sammy chased after his brother, not firing the gun blindly like his brother just running.
Dean was bigger, stronger, and faster than his little brother, but there was no point going too fast or the game would be boring. However, one wrong turn in Uncle Bobby's yard and being able to outrun his brother was no longer a problem, he was at a dead end. He dove to the ground to try and wiggle under the car, paying some mind to the stuff on the floor, making sure he wasn't about to crawl over anything dangerous.
Sammy rounded the same corner and cheered seeing his brother half under the car. "Freeze Dirt Bag!" He yelled.
Dean snorted hearing his brother try and copy his words, "you'll never catch me copper!" He yelled back in the spirit of the game. He redoubled his efforts to escape under the car, watching out for any metal or glass in the mud.
Sammy took aim with the gun, "freeze or I'll shot," he warned.
Dean twisted slightly and aimed the gun behind him clicking it rapidly.
Sammy dived out of the way dramatically and as he did, he squeezed the trigger of his gun.
Both boys froze as the unmistakable bang of a loaded gun went off. Sammy dropped the gun in horror as the bullet thankfully missed his brother by a good margin and instead went through the window of the car he was crawling under. Dean barely even heard the smashing of the window and instead frantically patted himself down, half expecting to find blood.
Bobby had been in the study researching the law for John's hunt when Jenny coming sleepily into the study disturbed him. He greeted the little girl with a small smile, "hey there little urchin come to Uncle Bobby," he called.
Jenny padded over to her Uncle Bobby, her dolly in one hand, lifting her arms up to him to be picked up.
Bobby set the toddler on his lap bouncing his knee slightly. "Where are your brothers at?" He asked gently tugging the thumb from her mouth.
Jenny shook her head. "Gone," she murmured. She rested her head against Uncle Bobby's chest and snuggled in.
Bobby shifted the tot into a comfortable position and just let her rest against him. "Want me to send Abe out to find them?" He asked. He trusted the boys to still be on his property and to likely just be running around and playing.
Jenny shook her head again, "no. Wan' cuddles," she answered.
Bobby couldn't help but smile and press a scratchy bearded kiss to the little imp's temple. "That's fine by me little one," he assured. He did make a mental note to take the boys down to the field to play some catch after he was done; he swore John forgot sometimes they were still kids. He'd just about decided to go and find them when the gunshot went off. "Abe find the boys!" He ordered.
The large Rottweiler, who had been sleeping in the study and had barely stirred when Jenny had come in, was up on his feet in seconds. As soon as he was told to find the boys he charged out of the room and down to the open front door, seeking his quarry.
Bobby carried Jenny over to a cupboard in the study, one that didn't have any weapons in, and quickly popped her in, "stay there Jenny," he insisted firmly. He shut the cupboard door and chased off after Abe, picking up the shotgun from beside the front door and chasing after where he could hear Abe barking.
Once Dean understood he hadn't been shot he backed out from under the car needing to reassure his tearful brother he was fine. "Look Sammy, you didn't hit me, I'm fine," he insisted. "Don't cry now Sammy, it was an accident." He felt a little bit stupid that when he'd been checking the guns, he'd neglected to check in the chamber to make sure there wasn't a bullet there. "It was my fault Sammy, I should have checked the chamber," he pointed out. He wrapped his shaking and tearful brother in his arms trying to get him to calm down.
Sammy was white as a sheet and shaking as tears ran down his cheeks, when he felt Dean's arms around him, he clung to his big brother and sobbed into him, he screamed when Abe appeared, barking loudly.
Dean swore when Sammy screamed as Abe appeared, "Abe quiet," he tried to order, but the large rottweiler paid him no attention.
Bobby picked up the pace when he realized the boys were in a dead-end area coming round the corner shotgun pumped and ready to give the idiot who had dared shoot at his boys a good few new holes. He was at least reasonably certain it was some backwards hick who had trespassed rather than some supernatural SOB, they didn't tend to use guns after all. He swung the gun around for a target, "boys behind me!" he ordered as sharply as John Winchester ever had.
"There's no danger Uncle Bobby," Dean stated fighting the urge to jump and obey, he hadn't heard that tone from the man before.
Bobby Singer was no genius, but he was far from stupid and things were not adding up. As he was looking around the area for signs of where the unknown gunman could have been he was seeing things that painted a different story. When Dean told him there was no danger his suspicion rose. He saw the gun hanging loosely in Dean's hand, one that he knew was usually kept in the airing cupboard, he also saw another hang gun that belonged to him on the floor a few steps away from the boys. He lowered the shotgun and glanced at Abe, "hush Abe," he ordered.
Dean sighed when the dog followed the hunter's command and Sammy finally started sniffling instead of crying. He glanced up at Uncle Bobby and tried not to feel too worried. In the eighteen months they'd lived under the man's roof he'd never swatted them, he'd threatened Dean with the spoon a couple times for cheek, but Dean hadn't taken those threats all that seriously. He was still fairly sure Uncle Bobby wasn't about to spank them but didn't know if he could persuade the man not to tell Dad. He know his Dad would be quick to give out a big Winchester what for, and really wanted to avoid that, especially for his little brother. "Please don't tell Dad, it was an accident," he pleaded.
Bobby had pieced together most of what had happened and levelled Dean a glare when he'd asked him not to tell his father. "No can do, your Daddy is gunna hear about this one boy. First though you'll be telling me exactly what happened," he growled.
Dean felt a chill run up his spine at Uncle Bobby's words and tone and chewed his lip, thinking of the best way of explaining what happened whilst trying to keep Sammy out of any potential trouble. He couldn't lie to his Dad on the spot like this, but if he already had a story, he could stick to it and hopefully his Dad would only whale on his butt.
"Report, now Dean Johnathon!" Bobby barked in a dead-on imitation of the boys' father. John hadn't directly given him permission to whup the boys, but they'd been living under his roof for eighteen months now and John trusted him to look after them in his absence. He might not have ever given a spanking, but he'd been witness to more than just a handful of Winchester what for's and knew how it went well enough to feel sure he could replicate it.
Dean's eyes bugged wide at the all too familiar order and he swallowed nervously. "I was bored, so I got the guns from the cupboard, checked to make sure there was no clips in them and asked Sammy if he wanted to play cops and robbers with me and let him pick the gun he wanted. We came outside so we didn't wake Jenny, I was running shooting the empty gun and Sammy was chasing me not shooting, I came around the corner, realized it was a dead end and started crawling under the car. Sammy pulled the trigger whilst jumping out of the way of my shooting and his bullet went through the window. I'd just crawled out from under the car and was calming Sammy down when Abe and then you came. I didn't check to see if there were any bullets in the chamber," he reported. He knew he had to tell everything when a command for a report was given, nothing else was acceptable.
Bobby had to stop himself from turning Dean around and swatting him right there, if Sammy had chosen the empty gun Dean could have shot his little brother! If Sammy had aimed properly and not jumped away when he pulled the trigger, he would have shot Dean. He had promised himself though that he'd never lay a hand on someone in anger, that he'd never be like his own father. "Both of you get inside and to your rooms! I'll be in to speak to you soon," he ordered.
Dean felt a pit of dread open up in him, surely Uncle Bobby wouldn't actually spank them, he wasn't Dad. No, he was probably just sending them to their rooms as punishment itself, that would be the punishment. Of course, that didn't stop the fact that when Dad got home, he was going to tear his butt up good, but perhaps he could persuade Uncle Bobby it wasn't necessary. "Yes Sir. Come on Sammy," he urged. He figured compliance now might help save them and prove to Uncle Bobby that he didn't need to tell their Dad.
Bobby could tell Dean didn't truly see him as a figure of authority and knew this was something he was going to have to talk to John about. He was happy to watch the Winchester kids and was even enjoying having them under his roof whilst John learnt the ropes, but it wouldn't work if the kids didn't realize they had to follow his rules. That started with Dean, Sammy already looked up and followed his brother and it wouldn't be long until little Jenny started copying her brothers. If Dean thought he could do what he wanted when his Dad wasn't around, he could get himself and his two younger siblings seriously hurt, that wasn't something Bobby was willing to allow. John could easily lose his shit if he disciplined his kids, but if that was the case then John would have to leave. The kids needed to learn to follow the chain of command and if the kids were under his roof, he was part of that, especially when John wasn't around.
Bobby headed back to his house and went first to where he had left Jenny in the cupboard, relieved at least one Winchester spawn seemed to know how to do what they were told. "Hey Munchkin," he grinned. He pulled her out of the cupboard and set her on his hip, "want to watch some cartoons Squirt?" he asked her.
Jenny had been scared enough by Uncle Bobby's worry, content enough with her dolly, and still sleepy enough not to have tried to get out of the cupboard. She had been getting close to pushing though so flung her arms out at Uncle Bobby when he came. She nuzzled in briefly but quickly started squirming; she paused when Uncle Bobby offered cartoons and nodded, "toons! Toons!" She cheered.
Bobby chuckled and carried the tot into the living room, putting her down in the little play pen they had set up for her. He put in a video of looney tunes cartoons he'd bought specifically for her, and affectionately ruffled up her little blond curls. The anger he'd felt at the boys completely vanished through dealing with Jenny's innocence. Shaking his head, he went into the kitchen and picked up the spoon, he hadn't used it for cooking as John tended to use it for teaching Sammy harder lessons. He knew this needed to be a hard lesson; the kids could have killed or seriously injured one another because they had both broken the gun safety rules in a big way. He wasn't sure about Dean though, he was pretty sure John would have taken his belt to his eldest boy, but he wasn't as prepared to belt a preteen boy. He remembered his wife's hairbrush and nodded to himself, that would be enough to impress upon Dean just how serious this was.
He walked into the room Sammy and Jenny shared, amused seeing half of Jenny's things sprawled out on the bed rather than in her crib. Still, he set his face with a stern look, knowing a little bit of dramatic acting would go a long way with the younger boy. He had the spoon in his hand so Sammy could see it straight away and would know what was happening. He didn't expect much of an argument from the younger boy, but he hoped that going in with the attitude that what was happening was a forgone conclusion would prevent any argument from happening.
Sammy sat on his bed kicking his legs hoping that Dean was right, and Bobby wouldn't be mad at him. He looked up when Bobby came in, his eyes bugging when he saw the spoon in Uncle Bobby's hand, and he looked up at him miserably. "Please Uncle Bobby," he whimpered. "Dean said you wouldn't be mad," he added.
Bobby pushed down a surge of annoyance at Sammy's words, he was definitely going to have to talk with John and get him to reinforce this. What they did and his property was simply too dangerous to have the kids thinking they could do whatever they liked when John wasn't around. "Dean was very wrong kiddo. I'm really disappointed in you Samuel, just because your Daddy isn't here doesn't mean you are allowed to break the rules. I know you know the gun safety rules and you broke nearly every gun safety rule. Breaking any of these rules is enough to get you a smacked bottom and you broke them all," he lectured. He had to work hard to ignore the big puppy dog eyes Sammy was giving him, it helped when he reminded himself just how dangerous what Sammy had done was.
Sammy's eyes welled up with tears and his lower lip shook as Uncle Bobby told him off. He couldn't help but stare at the spoon; he knew how much it hurt when Daddy used it and really didn't want Uncle Bobby to use it. The gun safety rules were big rules and when he thought about them all he knew Uncle Bobby was right, "but, but Dean said," he whined.
Bobby just shook his head and crossed the room, clearing a space on the bed and sitting down. "Dean is not the one in charge here kiddo, I am, but really it doesn't matter who is in charge you have to respect the gun safety rules and you didn't. That means one thing young man, so I want you to come here and unbutton your jeans," he ordered.
Sammy sniffled but slid off the bed walking to Uncle Bobby's side and unbuttoning his jeans. "M'sorry Uncle Bobby," he sniffled.
Bobby pushed Sammy's jeans and underpants down before picking the young boy up and laying him over his lap, making sure the little butt over his knee was the highest point. With what he did he had to do a lot of unpleasant things, but he was pretty sure there was nothing he wouldn't rather do right now than what he was about to do. He took a deep breath and placed one arm around Sammy's waist, to keep him in place, raised his free hand before bringing it down with a firm swat. "I'm very upset with you Samuel Francis, I know you know the gun safety rules, but you completely ignored all of them. That's not acceptable ever little boy, I'm going to make sure you never even think about playing with a gun again," he lectured. He let his hand do the rest of the talking for him, turning the little bottom over his knee a bright red.
Sammy yowled from the first swat, kicking his legs and wiggling all over Uncle Bobby's lap. He did manage to keep his hands in front of him, but he definitely carried on like he was being murdered. "I wooooooon't!" He wailed.
Despite doing his best effort to imitate a bucking bronco, Bobby had no trouble keeping Sammy across his lap and continued bringing his hand down over his bottom until it was bright red, and the young boy was sobbing. He took a deep breath and picked up the spoon rubbing small circles with it on Sammy's bottom, so he knew it was coming.
"Nooooooo Uncle Boooooobby puh-leeeeeease!" Sammy wailed. He wiggled and twisted over the man's lap not wanting to feel the spoon on his already very sore bottom.
"You're getting 8 pops with the spoon, one for each gun safety rule you broke," Bobby told the child gruffly. He knew he was going a lot easier on the boy than his father would but hoped he was setting a firm enough precedent that the message that he was to be taken seriously would come across. He took a deep breath and raised the spoon, "you treat every gun as if it was loaded," he stated and then brought the spoon down with a hard crack. He repeated each part of the gun safety rules, bringing the spoon down to emphasize his point.
Sammy bucked and howled through the eight hard swats before finally collapsing over his Uncle Bobby's knee and just sobbed his heart out.
Bobby put the spoon down and rubbed the young boy's back, letting him sob it out. He picked him up off his lap, pulled up his underpants and hugged him into his large frame, tucking the messy mop of hair under his chin and let the child clutch at him. He continued rubbing his back as he crooned soft nothings in his low gravelly voice, just letting Sammy sob it out. As tough as John was on his boys he never skimped on the comforting and Bobby had no intentions of doing so either.
Sammy sobs slowly tapered off to sniffles and hiccups and he looked up at the man who was quickly becoming a second father figure to him. "M'sorry Uncle Bobby," he sniffled. He let out a big yawn and snuggled in closer to the warm chest of the gruff older hunter.
Bobby's heart clenched at the sad wet eyes looking up at him and he held Sammy a little tighter. "I know you are son, it's all forgiven now," he assured him. He didn't even try to repress the smile that pulled at his lips when Sammy snuggled into him and yawned. He hummed lightly under his breath and rocked him gently, a nap right now wouldn't hurt him, and Bobby had no doubt he was exhausted after his emotional outpouring. It didn't take long for the little body curled into his chest to become soft and heavy in sleep. He stood up and moved back the covers so he could lay the child on his stomach, setting him down gently, and tucking him in. Chuckling lightly to himself when he barely stirred at being moved, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head he picked up the spoon before he crossed the room and drew the curtains. Picking up a few of the stray toys on the floor as he headed out, leaving them on the dresser before he pulled the door too, leaving it open a crack as he was used to John doing.
Bobby returned the spoon to its place in the kitchen before he headed into his own bedroom and going under the bed. He had to root around for the box, but he found it easily enough, shaking his head to clear the memories he pulled it out and opened it up. It was a box of things his wife had a sentimental attachment too and so he couldn't stand to throw them out. He didn't pay too much attention to the items, knowing what he was looking for. He sighed when he picked up the antique wooden hairbrush, he was pretty sure she'd never used the thing, but it had sat on her dressing table since the day she'd moved in with him. Now he was going to use it, but certainly not for it's intended purposes. He put the box away and headed over to Dean's room; certain the lad would have heard what happened with his brother so hopefully knew there was no avoiding what was coming. As Dean was older, he knocked once on the door frame before stepping inside crossing his arms over his chest and fixing the nine-year-old a stern unhappy look.
Dean had been a little on edge but trying to force himself to relax, certain that Uncle Bobby would not spank him or his brother. However, when he'd heard his brother's spanking that blew that assumption out of the water and he got up to pace, unable to stay in one spot. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Uncle Bobby knocked on his door and managed to croak out a weak, "come in," but Uncle Bobby was already entering. Dean stared at the man who acted as a second parent to him and his siblings and winced seeing the brush in his hand. He'd never been whacked with a brush before, his Dad had recently introduced him to the belt and that sucked big time, but before that if he stepped out of line in a big way it was the spoon his Dad would use.
Bobby could see the play of emotions on Dean's face and was relieved he wasn't going to have an argument with him about whether he had the right to spank him. It truly remained to be seen what John would feel about the situation, but Bobby was reasonably sure the young ex-Marine would understand the importance of a solid chain of command. He knew he had to take a different tact with Dean, one he was older and two he was definitely the one responsible for this mess. He shut the door behind him and leveled Dean his hardest look, "have you got a lick of sense rattling around in that brain of yours boy?" He asked harshly.
Dean blinked at the sharply worded reprimand and ducked his head. "I…" he stated but then trailed off not sure what he could say.
"If your brother had picked the other gun, you could have killed him! You are damn lucky not to have a bullet hole right now Dean Johnathon do you understand that? If your brother is old enough to understand the gun safety rules you sure as hell are! Yet you broke every single one of them!" Bobby scolded letting the very real anger he felt come through in his words. "What are the gun safety rules," he demanded.
Dean felt about four inches tall and hated how right his pseudo-Uncle/second father figure was. He raised his chin at the order, "treat every gun as if it was loaded, do not ever play with a gun, if you pick up a check to see if there are clips in it or any bullets in the chamber, know your gun, do not point your gun at anything you are not prepared to destroy, where you point your gun that's where the bullet's going to go, do not touch the trigger until you are prepared to shoot, you shoot something or someone you make sure you mean to kill it or them," he recited.
"Correct, now did you treat the gun you said yourself you were shooting wildly as if it was loaded?" Bobby asked pointedly.
Dean groaned having a good idea already where this was going, "no Sir."
"Strike one. Where you playing with a gun?" Bobby pressed.
"Yes Sir," Dean answered. He felt too awful about how close he had come to hurting his brother to think up a smart assed response for once. It really had been blind luck that Sammy had picked the gun with the bullet in the chamber.
"Strike two. Did you check to see if there were clips in the guns or bullets in the guns chambers?" Bobby continued. He was working himself up to deliver the spanking he knew he needed to give, but really didn't want to.
"I checked for clips, but I forgot to check in the chambers Sir," Dean replied honestly.
"That would be a no Sir then, wouldn't it?" Bobby asked archly.
Dean dropped his head. "Yes Sir," he mumbled in defeat.
"Strike three," Bobby stated, "was that your gun?"
Dean frowned at this question. He looked up at Uncle Bobby trying to guess what answer he wanted. "No Sir," he half answered half asked.
"No, it definitely wasn't, it's one of my guns. So did you know this gun?" Bobby went on.
Dean understood what his Uncle Bobby was saying then and sighed, "no Sir," he gave in.
"Strike four. Did you point your gun at your little brother?" Bobby demanded harshly.
Dean swallowed thickly, "yes Sir," he forced out though his throat felt almost too tight to talk.
"Were you prepared to destroy your brother?" Bobby almost growled.
Dean shook his head rapidly. "N-no Sir," he stammered.
Bobby could see he was definitely getting through to Dean, "strike five. Did you intend to put a bullet in your little brother that you were pointing a gun at?"
Dean let out a sob, "no Sir," he sniffled.
"Strike six. Were you prepared to shoot at your little brother?" Bobby persisted.
Dean shook his head again, "no Sir," he stated a little more firmly than last time.
"Then should your finger have been anywhere near the trigger?" Bobby demanded.
"No Sir," Dean responded swiping at the tears that had started rolling down his cheeks from the weight of the pointed lectured.
"Strike seven," Bobby growled darkly. He took a deep breath before asking the final question, "did you mean to kill your little brother?"
Dean let out another sob and shook his head miserably, "no Sir."
"Strike eight," Bobby stated with a finality. "You broke every single gun safety rule that we have Dean Johnathon Winchester. You are damned lucky neither you nor your brother was hurt. You could have been shot by your brother; how do you think he would have felt if that bullet had actually hit you? How would you have felt if it had been the other way round and you had shot your brother? That's not to even mention the fact that you told your brother it didn't matter as your Daddy wasn't here. Well, I'm telling you now boy, under my roof means under my rules and you are to obey me and follow my rules just as you would your Daddy."
Dean scrubbed away at the tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand, "I'm sorry Uncle Bobby. It won't happen ever again," he promised.
Bobby nodded, "no it won't. I'm going to make damn sure you won't ever even think about breaking the gun safety rules again." He grabbed the high-backed wooden chair that sat in front of the desk in Dean's room and turned it around, sitting himself down and putting the brush behind him in easy reach. "Get those jeans unbuttoned and come here," he ordered.
Dean had been prepared to try to argue with Uncle Bobby, to at least attempt to talk him out of spanking him, but his lecture had been all too effective, and the guilt was almost too much. He walked over to where the older man was sat and unbuttoned his jeans pushing them down to midthigh along with his boxers, he knew he had no chance of this being over his underwear and threw himself over his Uncle's lap.
Bobby adjusted the larger body over his knee; though he hated having to do this it was easier now he had one under his belt. He looped one arm around Dean's waist to hold him in place and immediately started bringing his other hand down over Dean's bottom. He decided he had already lectured the boy enough and so simply let his hand do the talking.
Dean took his spankings very differently from his little brother. Where Sam carried on and flailed all over the place, Dean tried to stay still and silent, his Dad was very good at getting him to accept he'd earned his licks and his Uncle Bobby was no different. He knew he'd truly earned this one and so was trying to accept it stoically.
This might have only been Bobby's second spanking, but he had witnessed enough of them from John Winchester and knew Dean wouldn't be able to hold up the stoic acceptance forever. He did increase the force and speed behind his swats slightly but didn't try and break Dean with force alone; he knew it was the accumulative effect of the spanking that would break through Dean's stoic acceptance.
The unrelenting force of Uncle Bobby's palm against Dean's unprotected backside built up quite the heat and soon enough, despite his best efforts, Dean was hissing and yelping at the swats and squirming under the heavy hand. He tried to grit his teeth and still himself, but the heat was just too much. Once he was unable to hold still or keep silent the tears quickly welled up in his eyes and though he fought them too, inevitably they started rolling down his cheeks.
Bobby could feel when Dean could no longer remain completely still and stoic and that was when he upped the ante. He lifted his knee to expose Dean's sit spots and nailed them good and hard as he increased the speed and force behind his swats again.
When Uncle Bobby started spanking the very sensitive area where butt met thigh Dean lost his battle and started crying. He hated that he always ended up crying like a baby when he was being spanked and always tried to get through it without, but he'd never succeeded with his Dad and it didn't seem likely to be any different when Uncle Bobby spanked him.
Once Dean started crying Bobby picked up the hairbrush, like he had with Sammy, he rubbed it on Dean's bottom in small circles, so he knew what was coming.
Dean stiffened feeling the cool touch of the wood on his bottom and couldn't help but dread how it was going to feel coming down on his unprotected rear. He almost wished Bobby was using the belt, at least he knew how that felt.
"You will never again even think about breaking a single gun safety rule or encourage your little brother to do so. Understood?" Bobby growled.
Dean sucked in deep breaths to try and prepare himself for what was to come, "y-yes Sir," he forced out.
Bobby raised the brush and brought it down with the same force he'd have used the spoon on Dean, impressed with the yowl it produced and the white oval that rapidly darkened to red. He continued bringing the brush down all over Dean's bottom and sit spots, making sure he was well and truly impressing upon the nine-year-old that the gun safety rules were to be obeyed.
Just like under the belt Dean gave up all attempts to take the hairbrush stoically. He kicked and squirmed and howled like he was being branded, which it very much felt like he was. He was definitely gaining a healthy respect for his Uncle Bobby's ability to deliver discipline and wouldn't be testing the rules with him ever again. He was definitely not going to be breaking the gun safety rules ever again, if his Dad had been here, he'd never have considered it in the first place, but now he wouldn't break them no matter what.
Bobby continued to bring the brush down over Dean's bottom until he felt the boy give in and lay limp over his lap, sobbing his heart out. As soon as he did, he put the brush aside and rubbed his back, letting him become aware the spanking was over, before he helped him up, pulled his boxers up and pulled him onto his lap. He spread his legs, so Dean didn't have to put any weight on his bottom and held him tight to his chest, rubbing his back and rocking him just as he had Sammy.
Dean felt like he'd sat on a red-hot waffle iron and finally gave in to the spanking, sobbing over his Uncle's lap, it took him a moment to realize the spanking was over and then he felt the man's hands helping him up. As soon as he was standing, he thew himself at his second father figure and crushed himself to his chest, sobbing into his neck, his head resting on his shoulder.
Bobby murmured soothing nothings in Dean's ear in his low gravelly voice, just like he had for Sammy, rubbing his back and rocking, letting Dean cry himself out. He truly hoped John could accept this as he could finally admit to himself that he loved all three Winchester spawn. They were stubborn and hardheaded like their Daddy, but somehow all three had wormed their way into his heart. Then again, he'd challenge anybody not to love these kids, he knew the time where John felt comfortable enough to take on anything was coming up and he'd miss them something rotten, but he was hoping John would feel comfortable enough to leave them with him when he needed to.
Dean's sobs eventually trailed off to hiccups and sniffles and he leant heavily against his Uncle Bobby. "I'm really sorry Uncle Bobby," he told him earnestly once he could.
Bobby resisted the urge to chuckle at how similar the brothers were. "I know Dean-o, it's okay, you're all forgiven now, we're all done," he told him. He could see that Dean was fighting to stay awake and smiled, "why don't you lay down for a bit?" He suggested lightly.
Dean would normally argue that he was too old to take a nap, but he wasn't prepared to push his second father figure so soon after getting his butt handed to him so nodded reluctantly.
Bobby chuckled able to almost feel the reluctance pouring out of Dean, "you don't need to nap kiddo, just rest and recover for a bit. You can come down and join your sister and me any time." He personally thought a nap wouldn't do him any harm, but Dean was nine now and long past the time he needed to take naps. He helped him stand up and drew the covers back on his bed, fighting a smile as Dean reluctantly climbed in. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, "just rest," he urged seeing Dean fight a yawn.
Dean kicked off his jeans, that were still around his ankles, not wanting to feel the rough denim against his tenderized skin, and reluctantly climbed into his bed. He wrapped his arms around his pillow and fought a yawn, burying his face in the pillow. He promised himself he'd wait five minutes then change into some sweats and join Uncle Bobby and Jenny downstairs. He could kneel on the floor to play with his baby sister and that would keep him from having to sit on his aching butt.
Bobby drew the curtains, just like he had for Sammy, and left the room, shutting the door completely as Dean slept better like that. Dean was a much lighter sleeper than his little brother and any noise woke him up quickly. He headed downstairs and smiled seeing Abe laying by the play pen, protecting Jenny, his smile morphing into a huge grin as Jenny reached up to him as soon as she saw him.
Jenny heard Uncle Bobby come into the room and reached up immediately, "Up! Up!" She demanded.
Bobby chuckled at the demanding tone coming from the tiny tot and obediently scooped her up, "you're going to have us all wrapped around that little finger of yours aren't you Munchkin?" He cooed. He settled himself down on the couch, letting Jenny make herself comfortable and settled in to watch the cartoons with his little charge. He was prepared for Dean to come down, but he rather suspected the kid would fall asleep if he gave himself half a chance. He wouldn't let either of them sleep long, not wanting to deal with two kids too wired to sleep tonight, but he was pretty sure an hour wouldn't hurt, if they didn't wake up themselves before that.
Tomorrow Bobby promised himself he was going to take them all down to the park, let them run around and be the kids they were. He still had a bit of research to finish off for John, but he'd wait until the boys were up and could keep Jenny entertained before going back to it. He was rather fond of having her little body nestled in on his lap and the cartoons weren't too bad either.
~o~
There you go, there's chapter two. I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please, please review and let me know what you thought! Cookies for those who do review! Again a big thank you to my super star beta Jules Ann, she really is amazing and does so much for me!
PFW