"Dad?" Dean's voice was shaking.
"Dean?" John said into the phone receiver with worry in his voice. "Are you ok?"
"Dad, I need you to come pick me up."
"Pick you up? Dean, I'm on my way to the hunt. Where are you?"
"I- I'm at the police station, sir." Dean stuttered.
"DAMMIT!" John yelled as he pulled a hard U-turn. "I'll be there in an hour, don't say one more word until I get there."
John hung up the phone before Dean had a chance to respond. He handed the phone back to the officer and sat on the bench to wait for his dad.
50 minutes later John Winchester strode into the police station. He was big and burly, wearing a leather jacket and a look of confidence and no-nonsense, even the officers looked intimidated. John walked straight to Dean sitting on the bench and pulled him up.
"Are you ok, son?" John asked.
Dean stared at the linoleum floor under his feet. "I'm fine, sir."
A young-looking officer approached the two Winchesters. "Excuse me, sir-"
"I'm John Winchester." John interrupted. "This is my son, Dean. What's the problem officer?"
"Uhm, yes, sir. I'm officer Adams, your son was caught with a couple of friends in a stolen car."
Dean didn't look up from the floor, but he could feel his dad's glare burning a hole in him.
"He wasn't driving, but he admitted to hot-wiring the car." The officer continued. "We contacted the owner of the vehicle, and I don't think he's going to be pressing charges, but we still consider this a serious matter."
"Of course." John replied. "Is my son free to go?"
"He's being released to you but this will go on his record. All the information is here in this paperwork." Officer Adams handed John a stack of papers.
John snatched the papers from the officer's hand and audibly cleared his throat.
Dean straightened up and looked at the officer. "I'm sorry for the trouble I caused, sir. It won't happen again."
The officer nodded as John grabbed Dean by the upper arm and dragged him out of the police station.
Once they were in the car John spoke in a low growl. "Where's your brother?"
"He's at home, dad."
"Alone?"
"I salted the windows and doors and locked up before I left." Dean replied meekly.
The rest of the ride home was silent. Occasionally Dean glanced over at his father, each time his brow was furrowed and his grip on the steering wheel was so tight his knuckles were white. If Dean didn't know it before, he knew it now; he was dead. When they pulled up to their rented townhouse John got out of the car without so much as glancing in Dean's direction. His first instinct was to get inside and make sure his youngest was ok.
"Dad?" Sam expected his brother to be the one coming through the door. "What are you doing here?"
"Sammy, are you ok?"
"I'm fine, dad. What's going on?"
"Nothing, just go upstairs, I need to talk to your brother."
Sam bit his lip. "Um, dad, Dean isn't here."
"Yes, he is. I just picked him up from the police station."
Sam's jaw dropped as Dean slowly shuffled in the front door.
"Sam. Upstairs." John said again.
"Yes, sir." Sam gave Dean a worried look before he turned on his heel to head upstairs.
John grabbed Dean by the back of the neck and frog marched him to the kitchen.
"Sit down!" John demanded.
"I don't want to." Dean muttered under his breath.
"I don't care. Sit."
The second time Dean obeyed. He pulled out a kitchen chair, sat down and crossed his arms in a defiant move.
John took a deep breath. He was so angry he wanted to rip off his belt and start swinging instantly, but he decided to give the boy a chance to explain, though he doubted any explanation would be good enough to justify the events of the evening.
"Look at me son and tell me what happened!" John demanded.
Dean didn't look up from the floor. "The cop told you what happened." He replied meekly.
"I want to hear it from you, and you look at me when I'm speaking to you!"
Without taking his eyes off the floor Dean mumbled, "I was just hanging out with friends."
John was about to lose his patience with his eldest. "BOY! LOOK AT ME, NOW!"
Reluctantly, Dean raised his eyes to meet his fathers. John expected to see fear or remorse in his son's eyes, but instead he saw anger, even defiance. "You know damn well what I want to hear, Dean. Walk me through the night from the beginning, or do you need a licking to loosen your tongue?"
"No, I don't!" Dean replied through gritted teeth. "I just don't want to talk about it!"
"I don't care! I had to bail on a hunt for this, I want to know what the hell is going on with you, and I want to know NOW!"
Dean was tired of this. He barely ever saw his father and when he did, most of the time he was barking orders. Dean practically raised himself and Sam, he didn't need to answer to anyone.
"Another hunter will take it, it's not a big deal!" Dean argued as he stood up from his chair. "I was hanging out with my friends! Nobody got hurt and they aren't pressing charges so what's the big deal? I'm 14, not that you noticed, and I don't need to answer to you! All you ever do is give orders and hand out punishments, I'm the one who keeps this family together, not you! Just leave me alone!"
John started toward his son, and Dean bolted across the kitchen and made a beeline for the front door. He swung it open and took off running.
"BOY, YOU BETTER GET BACK HERE!" John yelled as Dean took off into the darkness.
John stood in the doorway, dumbfounded. He expected that type of tantrum from Sam who always felt that his life was unfair. But Dean was his soldier, his trustee. Sure, Dean knew how to bend and break rules like nobody's business, but he understood and respected the hunting life, so where was this coming from? One thing he knew, the boy would come back, if not for him then for Sam, and when he did, he was in a world of hurt. He knew better than to disobey a direct order, and he definitely knew better than to storm out into the unknown darkness unprotected.
John heard a shuffle behind him.
"He'll be back." John said, calmly.
Sam was standing on the bottom of the steps with tears in his eyes. Dean was always his protector, the one who talked sense into him about how to deal with Dad. It was hard for him to hear Dean lash out at his father and storm out of the house, not knowing when or if he'd return. John walked over to his youngest and wrapped him in a hug.
"He'll be back, he's just angry. He'd never leave you, son. Taking care of you is his job, it's his life, he knows that."
Sam squeezed his dad tighter. John picked up his little boy (who turned out to be not so little anymore, he was surely going to grow taller than John in a matter of years) and carried him upstairs and into his room. He lay Sam down on the bed and kissed his forehead. "Get some sleep son, I bet he'll be back before you wake up."
John tucked the boy in and went back downstairs to wait for his insubordinate son. He sat at his desk and started going over the notes for the hunt he was supposed to be on, maybe he could still be of some help. After a couple of hours, he got up and went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. When it was finished, he poured a big cup and sat at the table thinking about the conversation he'd had with his son earlier that night. Maybe it was true that he was only around to give orders and punishments, but dammit, he needed his boys to be safe, more than he needed to be liked by them. In the end, he always did what he felt was best for his boys.
As he was about to head back to his desk and continue his research, he heard the front doorknob gently start turning. John put his hand on the gun he kept in his waistband, just in case, but sure enough as the door slowly opened, he saw his it was his oldest returning home. Dean was trying to sneak in quietly, thinking John may have been asleep. What a foolish boy, John thought.
"Well, look who's home." John said walking to meet his son at the door.
Dean let out a sigh. He put his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. "I know. I know I'm in for it, dad. Can we just get it over with so I can go to bed?"
John pointed to the armchair inside the sitting room. "Pants down, bend over the arm."
Dean did as he was told and as he lay himself over the arm of the chair he heard his father pulling his belt through the loops of his jeans. John didn't saw a word, just started in giving his son lashes with the belt. Dean winced at each one but tried hard not to make a sound. He always wanted to appear stoic during a whipping. After the sixth one Dean couldn't help letting a moan escape his lips with each lash. John gave him a total of ten before stopping and rethreading his belt in his jeans.
"That was for storming out of here tonight like an insubordinate child. We still need to talk about your actions earlier this evening, your mouth, and you making me miss a hunt, which we will in the morning. Get up, pull up your pants and get upstairs to bed." John sternly told his son.
Dean wiped a tear that had escaped from his eye before standing up and correcting his clothing. Without so much as a look at his father he started towards the stairs.
"Dean!" John said.
Dean turned and met his father's eyes for the first time that night.
"You may want to let your brother know your back. He was worried sick about you."
That made Dean feel worse than anything else that had gone on that evening. He looked down to the floor as he tried to blink back another tear. "Yes, sir."
John went to wake Dean at 0600 and was not surprised to find his boys sleeping in the same bed. He watched his boys for a minute, admiring Dean's arm protectively over Sammy. Sam felt so safe with Dean, Dean had definitely taken John's words of taking care of his brother to heart, it made John glad that they were so close, but also saddened him to know they had a better relationship than he'd ever likely have with either of them. However, their safety, not their affection towards John, is his main priority, and if that meant risking his relationships with them then so be it.
As he started toward the bed, he wiped a tear he hadn't realized he'd shed. Careful not to wake Sam, he gently shook Dean's shoulder. "Dean. Up and at 'em, son!"
Dean opened his eyes with a sleepy groan. "Dad?"
"Get up! Let's get this over with before your brother wakes up."
Dean looked down at Sammy. He nodded and carefully slid out of bed without waking his brother. He wiped his eyes and stifled a yawn before following his father downstairs and into the kitchen.
"Park it!" John ordered, pointing to one of the chairs surrounding the little dining table.
Dean sat, then he stared at his hands on the table. John's anger at his son's actions was rising again just thinking about. He had to take a few calming breaths before confronting the boy.
"Do you have anything to say?" Dean just shrugged.
"Dean, I don't even know where to start. The laundry list of offenses you have run up is about a mile long. Leaving without permission, leaving Sam alone, hanging out with criminals, stealing a car, hot-wiring the car, making me miss a hunt, GOING TO JAIL!" He added a great emphasis on the last one. "You better start talking, son, cause as of now I can't see any reason why I shouldn't just whip you six ways from Sunday."
Dean stopped fiddling his thumbs for a moment, but he didn't look up or acknowledge John at all.
John observed the boy. "Dean. Look at me, son."
Dean was so well trained to obey orders that he instantly lifted his gaze to meet his fathers. His eyes were red-rimmed and wet, his face looked pale. "Yes, sir." His voice was barely above a whisper.
John sat in the chair next to Dean. "Tell me what happened last night."
Dean blinked, shedding one tear. He began to gently sob. "I'm so sorry Dad. I know I messed up so bad. I- I never planned to do any of that! I was just gonna go hang with my friends for like an hour, I knew Sammy would be safe! My friends decided to steal a car though, and they knew I could hot wire one-"
John got in closer to Dean's face. He wasn't yelling but his tone was forceful. "How did they know that? Are you going around bragging about the illegal things I've taught you to do?"
Dean bit his lower lip. "Uhm. I wouldn't really say bragging, dad, just- just sharing is all" he stammered.
"YOU!" John stopped. He stood up, turned around and took a few more deep breaths. This was going to be hard to hear but he had to be able to control himself if he wanted Dean to tell him the whole story.
"Alright son," He said with clenched teeth. "We will come back to that one. Go on."
Dean nodded. "Okay. Well, since they knew I could hotwire they asked me, and at first I said no! But, but they convinced me dad. It- it's hard when five people, especially your friends, want you to do something. It's hard to say no!"
John calmly sat back down and looked Dean in the eye. "That's called peer pressure, son. It's one of the hardest damn things to deal with when you're a kid. I remember it from when I was your age too. Everyone deals with peer pressure at one time or another, and you have to be able to do what you know is right despite what people want. Son, I know it's hard to hear but it's just something you're gonna have to deal with just like everyone else."
"But-"
John held up a hand. "No, Dean. No buts. I don't care if they think you're lame or weird or square, okay? When it comes to something as serious as stealing a car looking lame is just a risk you need to be willing to take to not end up handcuffed in the back of a police cruiser. You got me?"
"Yes, sir." Dean was looking at his hands again.
"Continue."
He put his head in his hands. "C'mon dad, you know what happened after that."
"Tell me anyway."
Dean almost rolled his eyes but caught himself knowing his father would probably add that to the list. "I- I got arrested, okay? As you know."
"Watch the attitude, son." He didn't sound particularly angry, but Dean still knew it was wise to heed the warning. "How did the cops get involved? Did you get pulled over?"
"Sorry. The cops got involved because Jimmy is a moron and was going 20 over the speed limit. So yes, we got pulled over, they ran the car, obviously they saw it had just been stolen. Arrested."
"You don't seem to be taking this seriously, son." John said with a more booming voice than before.
"Dad, I am! I'm sorry about making you miss the hunt. I know how important it is for you to hunt. And I'm so sorry I left Sammy. I figured he'd be safe, but I didn't mean to scare him." He looked so sorry and sincere; it was a complete 180 from how he came off just a minute ago.
"So, you're sorry about all that, but you're not sorry for stealing the car, is that it?"
"No. It's not that I'm not sorry, it's just… well, you're the one who taught me how to steal a car in the first place, and it just feels like I shouldn't get in trouble for it now."
John flew to his feet. "Boy, are you out of your mind? I taught you how to steal a car for EMERGENCIES! Which often come up in our line of work! I did NOT teach you to steal a car so you could take a random joy ride with a car full of idiots! If you don't know the difference between those two things, then you're dumber than I thought! And having a run in with the cops? That was never going to fly, and you know it!"
Dean looked a lot less confident than he did before. Yes, that was all technically true, but- Nope. He didn't have a leg to stand on.
"I-" Dean sighed. "I know. You're right, dad. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you're damn right I'm right. Now, tell me how you came to confess to hotwiring the car?"
Dean looked taken aback. "I- uh. I told them. They asked who started it and I said it was me."
"Listen to me, son. You never, ever give incriminating information to the cops. You ever find yourself in the presence of police and you call me, you got it?"
Dean nodded. "Yes, sir."
"So, now do you have anything to say about what you did?"
Dean looked his father in the eye. "I'm sorry, dad. What else can I say? I know I made a million stupid decisions last night and it affected a lot of people, probably more people than I realize. I hurt you, I hurt Sammy, I hurt everybody, and I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to." Tears were beginning to fall as he spoke. "I know I say this all the time, dad but I really didn't mean for all of this to happen. Somehow my seemingly simple plans always turn into some unforeseen trouble."
John shook his head. "This is why you need to think things through, Dean, before you do them. You need to think about possible outcomes and consequences, you need to think about other people involved! You need to think about more than just what Dean wants. And one more thing son, you need to remember that you're 14, that's ONLY 14. You are still a minor and you believing you're an adult doesn't make you one. You would do very well to keep that in mind."
Dean looked down in his lap. It was true, most of the time he just did whatever he wanted no matter who may get hurt. When he spoke his voice was shaky, "You're right, Dad. I know. I need to take responsibility for my actions and think more. I know I'm still a kid but I'm getting older and you're going to be relying on me more, and I won't disappoint you dad, I promise."
John took his sons face in his hands. "You may do some things I don't like but you will never disappoint me, Dean. I always proud of you."
He wrapped Dean in a warm hug, and they stayed like that for a full minute. Dean felt so comforted by the feel and smell of his father. He wasn't ready to let go when the hug ended, though that could be credit to the punishment he knew was drawing near.
"Alright son, is there anything else I need to know?"
Dean thought for a moment. "No, sir."
"Okay, well then first thing first. You're grounded for at least a month, and that includes the car," John holds up a hand at seeing Dean about to open his mouth. "Don't even start, Dean. No car."
That one hurt. That car was Dean's baby, and he couldn't imagine not driving her for an entire month.
"Yes, sir." Dean murmured.
"Good. Let's do this. Follow me."
John walked through the living room and towards the front door. Confused, Dean followed his dad.
"Dad?" Dean called, half walking, half running behind his father. "Why are we going outside?"
"Need a switch." He said it matter-of-factly.
Dean stopped in his tracks. "What? Dad!"
"Dean, I'm sorry son, but this one is serious."
John pulled out his knife and, after finding a suitable branch, cut himself a medium sized, flexible switch. He headed up the driveway and motioned for Dean to follow him. They walked to the impala and John told Dean to lay over the hood.
"Dad! Not my baby." He whined.
"Now, Dean!"
Dean reluctantly walked to the hood and bent over it. He buried his head in his hands and tried to prepare for what he assumed would be the worst pain of his life. He had never been switched before and didn't know what to expect.
John walked up behind his son and prepared the switch in his hand. He took a deep breath and began the lashing. After the first lick Dean couldn't hold in a squeal of pain. He had never felt the searing burn before but it felt like it was going to be etched into his skin forever. The next three blows landed I stripes below the first and each elicited a small grunt from Dean.
John paused. "Are you gonna start using that brain of yours and thinking about your actions?"
Dean wiped a hand over his snotty nose then squeaked out a, "Yes, sir."
"You ever gonna leave your brother or get picked up by the cops again?"
"No, sir."
John immediately let the next lash fall catching Dean off guard. "OWWWWW! A- OW!" He broke down sobbing as another lash fell. The next three fell in and below the crease of where his butt met his thighs. It took everything in his not to jump up from the car.
John placed the last lick diagonal across his ass and all the other lashes. Dean let out a scream bordering on blood curdling. He couldn't believe the pain, it felt like his ass was on literal fire. He clung to the car and sobbed. John gently pulled him up and into his arms. After a minute to regain himself, Dean pulled away.
"Son?" John's voice was calm. "Are you okay?"
Dean nodded. He didn't want to talk yet for fear he might cry again.
"I love you, Dean. I hope we never need to do this again."
Dean sniffled. "No, sir. We won't. I'm sorry."
"I know, son. I forgive you. Why don't you head inside and find your brother, I'm sure he's looking for you."
Dean managed half a smile and turned to walk back to the house. He flinched at the first step and switched to more of a saunter to be able to walk at least semi-comfortably. Sam was in the kitchen getting some breakfast. He dropped his bagel onto the plate when he saw Dean and ran over to him.
"Dean!" Sam wrapped his brother in a hug. Dean winced.
Sam pushed back. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Sam. Just a little sore."
"NO-"
"Sam! It's fine. Trust me, I deserved it. Let's just move on, okay? I want to apologize for leaving you yesterday. I won't do that again."
Sam smiled. "I forgive you. Love you, Dean."
"Love you too, kiddo."
THE END
