Apologies for poor formatting. I tried to upload as two chapters, each with their own POV, but for whatever reason copy-n-paste was not working for the second half. As I mentioned before, I write on my phone when time permits and inspiration strikes, therefore grammatical errors and lack of proper format should be expected. I appreciate the patience in that regard. For those wanting more fluff and less strict, I hope this can be a compromise.

It was a warm day for this time of year and everyone that Cynthia had come across seemed to be in a pleasant mood. It was early in the afternoon still, but her day was progressing rather quickly. Cynthia finished checking out the last customer in line. She thanked them cheerfully as they left.

It had been close to 15 years that Cynthia had worked at the local store. They mainly sold meats and various deli-style meals, but had a smaller selection of groceries and produce as well. Cynthia had started working at the store in high school. At the time, she was unsure of which career path to take, knowing college was not really in her best interest. She had barely gotten through high school. Not because she lacked intelligence, but her free spiritedness and need to socialize often got in the way. She had wanted to work with people, but she was unsure in which capacity. She told herself the cashier position was temporary, just until she found better, but the weeks turned to months which turned to years; as time passed, the desire for a different job decreased. She was content to work at the shop and had gotten to know most customers by name. She had conversations with them and genuinely enjoyed their company; and she hoped they did as well.

Cynthia shook her head as a group of boys entered the store. She recognized two of them as regular's children, but the other two she could not place. She kept her eyes on the group, as one would naturally if a group of young boys entered. It didn't help one of them carried a backpack and two looked nervous as can be. Cynthia swore under her breath as she watched the unrecognized blonde shove a bottle of Diet Coke into his backpack. While annoyed, she couldn't help but chuckle as another boy dropped mentos candy into the bag. Boys will be boys. But, stealing was not okay and Cynthia needed to follow through on store protocol. She waited for the boys to come to the register. They were trying the technique of buying other items to prevent suspicion. Ah, times never change. She remembered childhood friends demonstrating the same thinking error. As a child, it made sense. Why would you buy something if you were going to steal something else? As an adult, Cynthia realized how silly the notion was.

She entered the price into the register, "Okay gang, that'll be $2.50 for the chips. Now, let's add the soda and candy, hmm?" Cynthia tried to give them an out. If they gave up the goods, then no harm no foul, everyone can go about their day.

One of the unrecognized boys stepped up, "We don't have no soda or candy." His tone was cocky and Cynthia wanted to scold him for being disrespectful. Cynthia was raised on southern values of respect, particularly your elders, and expected the same of others.

Cynthia looked towards the child she was most familiar with, "Colton, I know your friend has items in his backpack that he did not pay for."

Colton belonged to one of the local families, The Winchesters. The Winchesters had a unique family situation, two brothers raising a combination of four children. They had visited the store fairly often. Cynthia would deny it if asked, but she couldn't help but have a school girl crush on the gentle, but giant men. She often found herself sputtering over her words, or having clumsy hands when interacting with them. They never failed to flash a bright smile and bore their intensely green eyes into hers.

Cocky kid answered again, "You don't know shit, lady."

Mitchell, another kid from a known family, the Turners, took initiative and opened the backpack, still on his friend's back, and took out the soda and mentos.

"Mitchell! Why would you do that! Now she knows we were gonna steal this crap!" Backpack wearing kid yelled.

Cynthia spoke again, "Well boys, looks like we need to make some phone calls home. Your parents will need to pick you up. Come with me." She walked around the register and brought the kids into the office in the back of the store, she requested her co-worker, Jeanie, who was stocking shelves, cover the register for her. Cynthia led the boys to her manager and explained the situation.

The manager, Jeff, nodded his understanding. "Thanks Cyn. Mind sticking around to help with telling their folks?"

"No problem, I have Jeanie on register."

Jeff turned to face the group, arms crossed across his chest. "Alright boys, I need names and phone numbers. We need to get your parents down here."

Colton was the first boy to speak, "Please, Miss Cynthia, don't call my dad. I promise I won't ever steal again." His voice was pleading, almost tearful. The Winchester children all referred to her by Miss Cynthia and were almost always extremely polite towards her. On the very rare occasion they were not, whichever adult present issued a scalding reprimand that left Cynthia's belly in knots and the child apologizing.

"I'm afraid I have to. What's his number? Let's get it over with, hmm?" Cynthia's voice was sincere. She had a feeling Colton was going to have pretty significant consequences. Whenever at the store, the kids tended to listen to directives the first time given, suggesting they were all well aware of what happens when they do not.

"I already told you. He isn't going to tell you."

Jeff shook his head, "Come on, kid. Don't do this to your friends. If you don't give up your names, I'll just call the police to deal with you."

A series of gasps left the boys, except for cocky kid. Mitchell spoke then, "Dude. No way. I'm not getting arrested because you're being an idiot."

The obvious ring leader of the group rolled his eyes, "Quit being retarded. They can't arrest us. We're kids. And I ain't gonna tell the cop my name either. So go ahead and call them."

"Alright. If that's how you want to play it."

"Wait!" Colton pleaded, "You guys know what my Dad's gonna do to me. It's going to be even worse if it's a cop that calls him."

Cynthia's stomach filled with butterflies. She had a pretty good idea what the father was going to do. She had overheard both Sam and Dean make threats of physical discipline if the kids didn't get their acts together. Usually it was in muffled voices or with phrases like 'you're gonna get it'; but once, Dean out right asked Colton if he wanted a spanking. Right at the cash register, as he was handing over money. Colton was whining about not getting candy, or something, and kept carrying on after being told to "settle down" multiple times. Cynthia remembered his face turning bright red as he shyly said 'no sir', it had worked though as Colton then stood straight and was no longer whining and hanging off the register.

Backpack kid looked indecisive, "So don't tell the cops your name. Maybe he'll just yell at us but let us go. After all, they can't arrest kids, right?"

"I think they can." Colton said "My cousin was brought home by the police once." His eyes got wider, "And he had handcuffs on."

Arrogant kid was back in charge, "Alright, and? Did he go to jail?"

"No. But he was in a lot of trouble." Colton said aggressively.

"I said we weren't giving names. So we aren't giving names."

Apparently, the group made their decision.

Jeff too, "I don't have time to play games." He stepped aside to place the call.

The boys exchanged nervous glances, but none of them spoke until two officers arrived.

"Alright boys, Mr. Holden filled us in on what's happened. Let's get your parents down here to pick you up so he can get back to work."

"We're not giving you nothing." Cocky stated.

Officer Landry pulled out a note pad, "Cynthia, do you know any of them?"

"Sure do, Officer. That one's a Winchester boy, Colton. And the one on the right is Mitchell Turner. I'm not so sure about the other two."

Officer Landry nodded, "Thank you." He directed his attention to the boys, "Colton, you Sam's boy? Or does Dean have a younger boy too?"

Colton nodded, "Yessir. My dad is Sam."

"What's his phone number?"

"Don't you dare!" Cocky threatened.

Officer Gains sighed, "Listen, kid. Either you give me the number or I call the station and have the secretary look it up. I'm sure we have it on file. Your dad's at the station at least once a week for a case. So one way or another I am getting your number. For the rest of you, either you give me your names and numbers or I take you down to a holding cell until either your folks call worried about you or you give in. Choice is yours."

Three out of the four had agreed to give their names and parent's phone numbers. Now it was just a waiting game. The demeanor of the boys had all changed since they first walked into the store. Instead of smiling, laughing faces, they were sad and scared. Cynthia hated that it ended up like this.

Theresa Turner showed up first. She was obviously upset with the situation and apologized profusely on her son's behalf. The officers talked with her some time in private and then allowed her and her son to go. Mitchell tried to give a small wave goodbye, but Theresa's hand grabbed his in a tight grip as they walked out of the store. The child's head hung low and Cynthia knew the Turner household was not going to be a fun place tonight.

Cocky kid was removed to the office, as he was still refusing to give his name. Officer Landry called Mason's parents to pick up their child, but was told they had no way to retrieve him. The officer volunteered to drop the child off, after they handled everything at the store. Mason was also removed to the office with the officer following. That left Cynthia, her manager Jeff, Officer Gains, and Colton.

Thankfully, it did not take long for Sam Winchester to arrive. Upon entering, he instantly grabbed his son's upper arm, kneeled down, and growled something into the child's ear. Cynthia couldn't make out the words, but the tone sent shivers down her spine and filled her stomach with ice. She had a pretty good idea what was said when Colton reached back to cover his bottom with his free hand.

The man released his grip and removed himself from the child's personal space, but was still kneeling. "Got me?" He drilled a look at the child that had Cynthia wanting to look away.

It sounded as though Colton was trying not to cry, "Yes sir." He responded shakily.

Sam nodded and stood fully. All others in the room needing to look up to speak with him.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Winchester." Officer Gains spoke. "It appears Colton and his friends helped themselves to some candy and soda. When Ms. Munez asked about the items she saw them place in the backpack at the register, they lied, saying they had none."

Sam's face appeared to be in a locked position. His mouth in a thin line and eyes narrowed. He turned to look at his son, "Is that true, Colton? Did you try to steal those items and then lie about it?"

Colton twisted the strings of his hooded sweatshirt. He was looking at the floor.

The father spoke again, this time his voice somehow sounded more intimidating, "Remember what I said. Now, I asked you a question."

Colton took a deep breath, his chest hitching, and then looked up to his father. "Yessir. Jackson put the Diet Coke and Mentos into Mason's backpack."

"Apologize."

"I'm sorry Miss Cynthia." Colton wiped at his eyes.

Cynthia wanted to reach out and hug the small boy. Colton couldn't have been younger than 10, but standing there getting reprimanded by his angry father, he looked much younger. The poor kid spent the last five minutes staring at the floor.

"It's okay, honey. We all make mistakes. Now I know this isn't really my place to say, but I don't like those other boys. You and Mitchell have been in this place lots of times and I never had to worry about you taking things."

Officer Gains nodded, "I have to agree with Ms. Munez. It certainly seems there was a ringleader in this whole operation. And I don't believe it was you, Colton. I won't tell you how to raise your boy, Sam, but let's just say I wouldn't be letting my son hang out with them unsupervised."

Sam had reached over to place his hands on his son's shoulders and stood him directly in front of him. "Oh, don't worry, Colton won't be hanging out with anybody, any time soon. Especially not Jackson and Mason."

Cynthia swore she heard the child whimper at the statement. But it was hard to tell, apparently the floor and those sweatshirt strings were the most entertaining things in the room.

"I trust your word, Sam. And I trust we won't be seeing anymore of Colton?"

The child's shoulders tensed up, as though they had been squeezed, he looked up through messy hair and red eyes, "Yes, sir."

"Alright. Take your boy home. Good luck tonight, kiddo." Officer Gains smirked.

Sam spoke one last time, "Sorry for the problems he caused. Thank you for calling me." He nodded and smiled at the adults. His face then changing to that of a pissed off dad as he grabbed his son's upper arm once more, "Let's go." The pair left through the side door.

Cynthia let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Yeah." Officer Gains smiled, "Dude can be intense." He laughed, but then shook his head and frowned slightly, "I do feel kinda bad for the kid though. I don't think it'll save his ass any that he wasn't the one that actually took the items."

Jeff nodded, "Yeah, I reckon the kid's gonna be pretty sorry when he gets home."

"Poor kid. He's a good kid. Just got mixed in with the wrong crowd." Cynthia thought out loud. "You really think his dad is gonna, you know?" Cynthia couldn't say the word.

Officer Gains nodded, "Oh yeah. The whole family is hell bent on their ways. I know John, patriarch of the whole clan, from a case that, uh, needed his special talent. We've kept in touch and let me tell you, that kid is not gonna be sitting easy."

"Nothing wrong with that." Jeff stated. "Damn kids need more discipline. I would have gotten my ass kicked from here to next week if I was caught stealing as a kid."

"I think a lot of us would. But, I'm going to go help Landry. You two need anything else?"

"Just that those two," Jeff nodded toward the office, "aren't allowed back in my store."

"No problem. Have a good day, folks."

"You too. Thanks for the help." Cynthia made her way back to the front. There was only an hour left of her shift. If nothing else, at least today was interesting.

XXX

Sam opened the back door and helped Colton into the seat. Not that he really needed any help, but Sam was pissed and he wanted his son to know just how angry he was. As much as Sam hated to admit it, physical intimidation and some light manhandling usually did the trick. He cursed his father for instilling that within him.

Getting into the driver's seat, Sam exhaled and inhaled for a 4 count. He needed to calm down - he was using John Winchester tactics. That was an obvious sign the Sam's anger was about to go off the charts and into the 'danger zone'. Think of the positives: Colton wasn't the one that actually took the goods. No charges were pressed. Gains was the responding officer and most familiar to the family. And Colton was remorseful. Or scared. It was hard to tell with his kid. Colton cried for a lot of reasons. Something Sam never discouraged. He was never allowed to show any kind of emotion as a kid, and wanted the exact opposite for his children. Expressing emotions was a good thing. Well, when they were expressed in a healthy manner.

Pulling into the family's home, Sam unbuckled his seatbelt and moved to help his son out of the back. Again, Colton didn't need help, but Sam knew his boy well enough to know Colton needed his dad's touch right now. He needed to know he was still loved, even if he had gotten in trouble.

"Let's go, Colt. Up to your room."

The boy nodded and allowed himself to be helped out of the car by placing his hand in Sam's waiting open palm. Colton's small hand barely filled the large space, but Sam squeezed tightly to overcome the void. He felt Colton relax slightly.

The duo entered the child's bedroom, but was met by Brayden, who shared the room. He was laying on his bed, generally looking miserable.

"Beat it, kid." Sam stepped into the room, Colt's hand still in his. He nodded towards the door.

"Can't." Brayden said matter-of-factory. "Dad says I can't leave this room until I", he made air quotes, "'quit the bullshit', whatever the fuck that means."

Sam allowed his voice to drop, "Well I imagine your language has something to do with it." He drilled his nephew a look, a look that said 'you're already on thin ice, don't make me break it'. Satisfied with the wide eyed look Brayden returned, Sam continued "But, Colton and I need to have a discussion."

"Then you tell Dad to spring me. I'm not risking getting my ass handed to me just because Colton is."

Sam sighed, irritation from earlier rising again, "Your Dad went to pick up Briella, so he's not even home. I will tell him when he gets back. Now, finish your sentence in his room, or it's going to be a double whammy tonight."

"Yes sir." Brayden bolted from the bed and passed Sam into the hallway. Sam was satisfied when he heard the squeaky door of his brother's room softly click. Now, back to Colton.

"Alright, kiddo. You and I need to talk." Sam dropped his hand and knelt down to eye level.

"Please, daddy." Colton instantly wrapped his open hands around his butt cheeks. "I'm sorry. I won't ever do it again." He was crying, but was too stubborn too remove his hands to wipe away the tears currently soaking his cheeks.

Sam understood. He himself was in the position many times as a child. Only, his father would have ripped his arms down and forced him to stand at attention, with a reminded that 'babies cry'. Sam shook the memory from his thoughts, he and his father moved past all that. Instead, he used his own large thumbs to wipe away the tears.

"Let's just talk first, Colt. With our words." Sam offered a small smile to which Colton nodded and removed his hands. Sam guided his son to his bed and sat down next to him. He pretended not to notice when Colton moved over, just barely, so that their thighs were touching.

"What happened today?" Sam prompted. He purposely left the question open-ended. He had a feeling there was more to the story than it appeared.

Colton shrugged.

Allowing his voice to drop, just barely, Sam reminded his son of expected responses. "No. You know better than to not answer when me, Uncle Dean, Or Grandpa ask you a question. 'I don't know', shrugging, or shaking your head is never an acceptable response. Do you understand?"

Colton sighed, "Yes sir."

Sam switched back to his, well at least what he hoped was, his calm voice. "Alright. So let's try again. Why did I need to pick you up from the grocery store?"

The child's voice was shy, almost incomprehensible, "Because we weren't going to pay for the mentos and soda."

The father nodded, "Right. Do you know why stealing is wrong?"

"Because it's not mine. And you hafta pay for things."

"They weren't yours. They belong to Mr. Holden, the owner. You and your friends committed a crime Colton."

Colton really started to cry then. His chest started to hitch and his breathing increased. "No, daddy. Don't let them take me." Sam was grateful he understood crying child.

He wrapped his arms around his son, "Shh, Colt, what's wrong. Talk to me, kiddo."

"I'm sorry." Colton mumbled something else about being taken, but Sam couldn't make it out. He just hugged his son. He kept on hugging and rubbing at his back and finally the frantic panicked crying had stopped. Sam allowed Colton to pull away, he looked up at his dad, green eyes even brighter against the redness, "Please don't let them take me."

"Who? Take you where, Colton?"

"Jail."

Sam couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips, "Oh, Colton, you aren't going to jail. I promise."

"But I'm a criminal. And criminals go to jail."

"You're right, when someone is proven in court to have broken the law, they get a consequence. But, it's not always jail."

Colton looked confused, "It's not?"

"Nope. Kind of like when you kids get in trouble. Is it always the same punishment?"

The young child's nose scrunched up, as if he was thinking. "Sometimes."

"Tell me more." Sam encouraged.

"Like when I don't do my homework, I don't get to watch tv. That's always what happens."

The dad nodded, "Yep. But if you lie to me, what happens?"

Shaking his head, Colton responded in a whisper, "I get a spanking."

"Mmhmm. So some things lead to time outs, sometimes you have to write lines, and others you get your butt whupped. But it depends on what it is."

"I guess so."

"It's the same way with the law. Somethings are pretty serious. And those criminals go to prison. Others aren't as bad and maybe they have to do community service or pay a fine, kind of like how you and Brayden had to clean Uncle Dean and Gramp's garage to earn money to replace the tv you two broke playing baseball inside. Remember that?"

A nod. "Yeah that was gross."

"But you haven't played ball inside since, have you?"

"No sir." Colton smiled, somewhat, for the first time since Sam picked him up.

"So, back to today. Did you know it was a crime to steal?"

A dramatic sigh, "Yes sir."

Sam allowed the silence to settle for a moment, just to drive home the point the Colton was very much aware of his actions, "But you did so anyway?" He gave his son what he would call a quizzical look, but knew the rest of the family would call a 'bitchface'.

"I had to!" Colton threw his arms out exasperatedly. His voice raising.

"Hey, settle down." Sam gave a warning glare, "Why did you have to?" He used his son's words against him. "And before you answer, remember, 'because' is not an answer."

Colton gave an eye roll Sam chose to ignore. He seemed to be considering a response. Just as Sam was about to tell him to answer, Colton let out a deep breath, "Because. Jackson and Mason are really cool. And if I wanna be cool then I gotta do what they say. Or they wouldn't be friends with me." He sounded almost desperate.

Sam understood. Oh, how he understood. He had put himself in very similar, if not worse, situations over the years trying to fit in. With anyone, really.

"Colton, I know what it's like to want to fit in. But, look at me, kiddo," Sam guided his chin up with his hand to met eyes, "This isn't the way to do it. I know Jackson and Mason seem cool, but there's a lot of other kids out there. Kids that won't make you do illegal or stupid stuff to fit in, okay?"

"Okay." But Colton didn't seem convinced.

"I know you don't believe me. But, it's the truth. All that taking those things got you is an upset dad." When Colton didn't respond, Sam continued, "It also got you a week grounding. And it's about to get you a spanking."

"Daddy." Colton's voice was pleading, again. "I don't want a spanking. Just ground me. Two weeks."

Sam quirked an eyebrow, "Okay. We can do two weeks. But you're still getting your butt smacked. Remember, I'm the dad. I get to decide the punishment."

Another eye roll. Again, Sam ignored it. He probably should call him on respect, but, ultimately there was a bigger lesson to be learned right now.

Colton responded verbally. "One week please. But I promise I won't ever steal again. Ever."

"I hope so." Sam met his eyes again. They were sad, but relieved at the same time. "But I also hope you make better friends. Mitchell wouldn't ask you to steal, would he?"

Colton shook his head.

"And you and he have lots of fun together, don't you?"

This time an affirmative nod, "Yeah."

"So, why do you need Jackson and Mason? It sounds to me like they only caused you both a whole lotta trouble. I know Mitchell's mom wasn't happy either." Sam allowed the comment to sink in a moment, "I talked to Mrs. Turner before she picked up Mitchell. We both think you two made pretty bad choices today. The first one being hanging out with Jackson and Mason. Do you agree?"

"I guess. I mean I wouldn't be in trouble if we didn't go with them for the mentos and Diet Coke." Colton paused then, his attention back to the strings on his hoodie. "Daddy. Please don't be more mad, but we were going to make a bomb. I know that's really bad but Mason said if we mixed that stuff together, then it would explode and go everywhere. We were going to do it in the woods though, I promise."

Sam chuckled then. He knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn't help the comparison his child was making. "Colton, every little boy messes around with mentos and soda. It does create a soda'plosion. But it's certainly not a bomb, or illegal, if you buy the stuff." He gave another 'I mean it' look, but his voice was still soft, "How about this, you show me you can act like the good, polite Colton that listens, for this next week, and me and Uncle Dean will make the explosion in the back yard. Deal?"

"Deal." Colton smiled. Clearly excited with the offer.

"Now." Sam started, "The second half of your punishment. Let's get it over with, Colt. Lose the jeans and over my lap."

Sam offered a silent pray that Colton wouldn't put up a fight. He just didn't have it in him to argue. Surprisingly, Colton complied. He pushed his jeans down to his ankles and laid over Sam's large lap.

"What did you learn today, Colton?" Sam asked.

"Not to steal." His voice was small.

"And?" Sam prompted.

He felt the boy tense. "About choosing friends?" Sam offered as a reminder.

The body on his lap relaxed a little, as much as any boy ass up over his dad's thighs can. "Not to do something because someone else is."

Close enough. Sam smacked his hand down, landing in the center of his son's right butt cheek. His hand was large enough to cover the entire side. Colton stiffened and let out a groan. Sam smacked the other cheek just as hard. He continued, back and forth, sometimes landing in the same spot twice, then moving on. Other times, smacking a little higher up, or, closer to the thighs. Sam had a system, it was more or less a random system, but it made sense to him. This spanking felt right. Sam truly believed Colton deserved this, almost as much as he believed Colton had learned something from it. He continued the non-pattern, pattern until Colton's cries turned into sobs. Sam was confident his son was crying actual tears and had truly allowed the lesson to sink it. He ended the spanking with two smacks each to the area where butt and thigh meet. Overall, this wasn't the worse spanking Colton had ever received - probably not even the top 5 - but it didn't matter. Sam still allowed his son to cuddle into his chest and held him until all the tears had stopped. After some time, Sam wiped the final few tears from the child's face. He repositioned Colton to be laying in his bed, belly down. The child's eyes fluttered thrice, then shut completely. The father offered a few comforting rubs to his back, until he could be sure Colton was sleeping. He kissed the matted mess of hair in front of him and retreated downstairs.

"Hey." Dean said from the couch.

"Hey."

"You good?"

"Yeah. Just hate this part of being a parent." Sam smiled.

"Whatever it was, I'm sure he deserved it."

Sam simply nodded.

It was exactly one week later when Brayden and Colton slowly made their way down the stairs. It was a Saturday morning, but both children were dressed for the day. Sam exchanged a look with his brother as both men took a sip of their coffee.

"Morning." Sam offered.

"Sleep okay?" Dean followed.

"Yes sir." Brayden stated. Sam squinted and looked to his nephew. The question didn't require a formal response, either Brayden wanted something, or he did something wrong and it trying to ease the blow.

Dean must've had similar thoughts, he sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair, "Alright. What'd you two do? How big of a mess is it and how much will it cost?"

"No, Dad. Nothing like that." Brayden waved his hands back and forth, as if they were saying 'no.' "We, uhm, were wondering if we could go to the store."

Sam pretended not to notice his brother's smirk. "What do you need?" He asked.

"Dad?" Colton asked, hesitantly, "I tried really hard this week to be good. I know I forgot the garbage, but I did it as soon as you told me to!" Colton was starting to get upset, Sam could hear it in his voice.

"It's okay, Colton. What did you want to ask me?"

"Can we please make a soda'plosion?" He was looking everywhere but his father.

Brayden backed just cousin, "Please Uncle Sam? It sounds really cool."

Sam smiled, "Go get in the car." Sam had been waiting for this all week.