"What the hell is this?" John yelled.

Sam and Dean's eyes shot up from the research they were doing and looked in John's direction. John was holding a note that appeared to be from the boy's school.

"Dad, whatever it says- I didn't do it." Dean declared jumping up from his seat.

"You're right." John looked over to the table where his youngest was still sitting. "Front and center!"

Sam slowly made his way to stand in front of his father.

"You wanna explain this?" John demanded.

"It might be easier if I knew what it said." Sam sneered.

"You better watch that attitude, boy." John growled. "Did you tell your teacher to 'get a fucking clue?'"

Sam made a face. "She was teaching us about Columbus coming to America, but her facts were all wrong. I was just trying to correct her! She told me to keep my comments to myself, but I wasn't gonna sit there and let her teach wrong information."

John pinched his eyebrows between his fingers. He loved his boy, but why did same always have to make a big deal out of nothing. Dean just let stuff like this roll off his back, but Sam always had to make a mountain out of a molehill. "Samuel, she is the teacher and you are the student. You let her teach and you shut your mouth about it! Now I have to go down to the school tomorrow to keep you from being kicked out of the class, which means I can't leave for my hunt tonight! Your actions have consequences, son!"

"Let her kick me out!" Sam threw his hands in the air "I don't give a shit!"

"Enough with the language, Samuel. I don't get it, you love school, you're always trying to get top grades, and you just want to blow it all for one teacher you don't like?"

"What's the point? As soon as you're done with this hunt, we're gonna switch schools again anyway!" Sam was yelling now. "Why should I waste all this time and effort doing well at school when I won't even be around to be tested on the material? It's not like you're gonna let me go to college when I graduate anyway."

John could feel his anger rising. "The point is, son, that we need to stay under the radar. That means you go to school and you do your best. That allows me to take you boys with me for hunts without getting visits from CPS. Is that what you'd prefer, going to some foster home?"

"At least they'd probably be a normal family." Sam mumbled.

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean yelled from the table. Sam gave his brother a side eye.

"You know what, Sam? I'm tired of having this argument with you! We're not a normal family, we never will be. It's about time you suck it up and deal with it. No, we don't get to make lifelong friends or attend every school event, but we save people. We save LIVES son, and if that isn't important to you, then I've failed you somehow." John bellowed.

Sam shrunk back. He hated how his dad always invalidated his feelings in the name of saving lives.

"I know we save lives, dad, but what about MY life? You don't care about my life or if I'm happy at all! You just want an obedient little soldier who does whatever you say! Well, maybe that's what Dean wants to be, but not me! I HATE this life, and I HATE YOU!" Sam yelled with a swift kick to John's shin. He turned to run but John grabbed him by the back of the shirt and had him over his knee within seconds. John landed a flurry of heavy swats on his youngest's jean-clad bottom before releasing the boy.

"You get your ass up to your room. NOW!"

Eyes filled with tears, Sam sprinted up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door. John sat down and put his head in his hands. It always became a big screaming match with Sam, and he didn't know how it always went so wrong.

"Dad?" Dean approached his father coyly.

John sat up and looked his oldest in the eyes. "Son?"

"Dad, please don't kill Sammy."

John sighed. "I'm not gonna kill him, Dean."

"Please dad, don't be hard on him. He's just a dumb kid, he doesn't always think about what he says before he says it."

"Well, he better start." John declared. "He's 11 years old, son. He's old enough to know that his words and actions have consequences, and not just with me. I have to try to find someone else to fill in on this hunt for me so I can keep Sam out of trouble, and if I can't then people die, Dean. He's too old to be throwing temper tantrums."

"He just doesn't get the seriousness of the supernatural stuff, dad."

"That's not an excuse, son. This stuff is serious and dangerous whether he believes it or not." John held up his hand "Not another word about it, Dean. Finish your research, I need to make some calls."

After finishing his phone calls John went into the kitchen to start dinner. As he cooked, he tried to think of a way to get his youngest to understand why hunting was so important, and why Sam's role of behaving at school was just as important to the job. He knows his boys were forced to grow up faster than most kids, and he felt bad about that, but he also knew it was what needed to be done, and he wished Sam could just accept that. John's thoughts were interrupted by a small voice behind him.

"Need any help, dad?" Dean asked.

John turned and smiled at his oldest. "Yeah, sure. Thanks, son. Come here and stir this sauce."

John popped the garlic bread in the oven and checked the noodles on the stove. "Keep an eye on this, will ya son? I need to go talk to your brother."

"Are you gonna spank him, dad?"

"Your brother will be fine, Dean."

With that John turned and headed up the stairs to deal with his youngest boy. He gave a soft knock on the door before entering the room. Sam was sitting on his bed with his head down and his arms crossed. John could tell by his defiant posture that Sam was still angry and that this talk wasn't going to go well.

"You ready to have a civil conversation, son?" John started.

Sam looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed, and his brow was furrowed, that pretty much answered the question for John. "You don't want a conversation; you just want obedience."

"And you know what I want?"

"Yeah, I do! You want me to "yes, sir" and "no, sir" and agree with everything you say without question!"

"Well, you're not completely wrong, son. The bottom line is, I'm your dad and I know what's best for you and for this family. I know you think you know it all, Sam, but you're just a kid, there's a whole lot that you don't know yet."

"Like what?"

John sighed. "Like, things that I can't explain to you right now. Things about our family and about the supernatural that I just need you to trust me on."

"That's such crap, dad!" Sam balled his hands into fits and slammed them on the comforter below him. "I may be a kid but you expect me to practically raise myself like an adult so why are you keeping things from me?"

"First of all, son, you don't raise yourself. I am your father and I still raise you, even when I'm not here. You also have your brother who does a hell of a lot for you. And I'm not keeping things from you, there are just certain things a child doesn't need to know yet and that's just the way it is."

"Whatever." Sam sneered.

"Now, this business at school. Look, I know you're probably smarter than half the teachers at that school. Book wise, you're smarter than most adults, but that doesn't give you the right to mouth off and make a scene in the middle of class. All that does is create trouble for all of us. Now you're on the verge of being removed from the class and I have to bail on a hunt day-of. Not only does that look bad for me, but it puts real people in real danger. Some monsters are only out one night a month, or one night a year, I can't just go pushing back hunts whenever you feel like you've been wronged. If you have a problem with a teacher or a class, you come talk to me about it. That's what an adult does. I know you think you're all grown up son, but you're not, you're still a kid, and throwing a fit in class and at me just proves that."

John could see Sam mulling over this information in his head. His shoulders relaxed and his face went from a look of frustration to a look of embarrassment. Maybe he was finally getting through to the boy.

"Okay, dad. I- I get it. I know I shouldn't have mouthed off to my teacher, or you, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry you have to miss the hunt."

"Luckily, I was able to call another hunter in to take over for me. But, that's not something I can count on to happen every time, which is why I need you to do your part and act right. You understand me?"

"Yes, sir." Sam moped.

"Alright, then come here." John crooked a finger at Sam.

Sam slowly got up and shuffle dover to his father. John pulled out a desk chair and sat down, he motioned his son over his lap. As soon as Sam was in position he started in hard and fast.

Sam yelped almost instantly. The pain of the spanking always made him vocal, but it was worse when he knew he deserved it. Over and over John's hand fell and Sam's yelps quickly turned to yells.

Suddenly, John stopped. Sam was confused, it was bad but not near as bad as he expected to get. He felt a wash of relief come over him until he felt John's hand reach under him to undo his jeans. In one swift motion John pulled down Sam's jeans and boxers and then began the assault again.

The pain in Sam's ass was suddenly reignited with a new level of pain. Sam howled. His dad's heavy hand came down again and again quickly turning Sam's skin from slight pink to blazing red. Sam was sure he would have permanent handprints imprinted on his ass after this. Sam began to kick as the pain became too much, John simply pinned Sam's legs down with one of his own and continued on his mission. Sam didn't know how much more he could take. Tears were pouring out of his eyes and snot was pouring out of his nose. In his upside-down position he could feel all of his blood rushing to his head.

Sam hated to beg, but he just couldn't take it anymore.

"DAD! Please, stop!"

John didn't answer, and he didn't stop swatting until Sam's entire ass was fire engine red. To finish he gave Sam three hard swats to each sit spot which left Sam howling and bawling.

When it was over Sam just laid over his father's lap and cried. John rubbed his sons back and allowed him all the time he needed to calm down. When Sam was finally able to catch his breath, he pulled himself up and righted his clothes.

"I'm sorry, dad." Sam sniffled.

"I know you are, son. You're forgiven now. But I don't want us to have to have this conversation again."

"We won't, dad. I promise."

"Good. Now, what do ya say we go down and have some dinner? It smells good."

Sam's nose perked up. "Spaghetti and garlic bread?"

"Your favorite!" John smiled.